


The Last Thing We Need Is A War

by thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Coming to terms with noah's death, Exy is played, F/F, F/M, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Raven kids come to PSU, There is quite a bit of Gay, but no more than canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:05:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 49,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9587108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes/pseuds/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes
Summary: It's hard to recover from something in the past when the future keeps giving you new things to worry about. Especially when those new things aren't supposed to exist.------or-------The Raven Boys come to PSU and with them they bring magic, madness, and a mob war.





	1. Chapter 1: The Tapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: The foxes review some very interesting tapes

It had all started a few weeks ago. Neil, Kevin, Dan, Andrew and Coach Wymack had been looking over tapes that had been sent in from around the country in Wymack’s office. A makeshift reviewing table had been formed out of his desk, papers strewn around and a computer waiting in the center for watching clips. Andrew wasn’t doing much, but the rest of them were working hard to choose who to let on the team.

“There weren’t this many tapes last year,” Coach grumbled, obviously overwhelmed.

“Really? This is about half as many as the Ravens got every year. And besides, last year, you were a joke, people would only send their applications in to you as a failsafe, when they knew that no one else would accept them,” Kevin pointed out.

“Yeah well that was before we became the best team in the league,” Dan had cheerfully retorted.

“No way!” Kevin burst out.

“Well geez Kevin, I know you’re crazy critical and you love the trojans more than you love us but we did win last year,”

“No not that, these kids, they were in the group that found Owen Glendower!” Kevin seemed to have assumed that they all knew who that was.

“Who?” Neil asked.

“Um, he was an old welsh king. His body was rumored to be sailed over from Wales and buried in the Americas after his death. A group of kids found his body, we talked about it in class. It’s actually really fascinati-,”

“Alright, so what we have learned here is that you’re a history nerd,” Dan cut in. “Wait, you said kids? Plural?”

“Um yeah, two kids from Aglionby Academy, I believe it’s an Ivy League prep school in Virginia,”

“And they sent the kids here? I mean we’re a good school, but we’re not exactly Harvard,” Neil interjected.

“Also, from the sounds of it, they’re soft rich kids, they don’t exactly fit our ‘recruiting standards’, they don’t need second chances from us, they can buy their own,” Dan added.

“Dan, I hate to break this to you, but you’re dating a soft rich kid and I had to buy his chance for him,” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair. Dan flushed, but didn’t say anything to refute that point.

“Well, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, let me see their sheets Kevin,” Kevin handed over the two sheets. “Looks like we have a ‘Richard Campbell Gansey the Third’,”

“What kind of pretentious-ass name is-,”

“Dan,” Coach warned

“Wait, Gansey? Like that congresswoman?” Andrew asked.

Coach nodded his confirmation. “He’s her son. Jesus Christ, imagine the size of that inheritance. Okay, and the other one is Adam Parrish,”

“What no middle name or title?” Neil Joked, Dan snickered.

“Watch it, the kid looks like he’s had a real number done on him,” Coach reprimanded, handing over the file, he was right.

It wasn’t that there were any marks on his face (though there was the stray scar near his neck and by his ears) It was the defeated and tired but defiant and satisfied look in his eyes, the challenging jut of his jaw, the fragile look of his cheekbones and delicate eyes. It was the note by the “disabilities” box on the sheet that read “ deaf in right ear”. It was the upward curve of his lips that told Neil that this kid had gone through hell and come out with the Devil’s head on a stick. Adam Parrish looked nothing like Neil Josten but when Neil looked at the picture, he saw himself of looking back.

“Looks kind of like you, huh Neil?” Coach said, as if he had read Neil’s mind  
“Really? I don’t see it,” Dan remarked.

Andrew took a long look at Neil, then a long look at the photo. “Neither do I,” He said, sounding to Neil like a petulant child.

“He’s got decent stats,” Kevin noticed, mind always on Exy.

“Let’s see what he’s got,” Coach suggested. Kevin plugged in the flash drive that contained the boy’s tapes. The monitor of the old computer played a video, on it stood Adam Parrish, defensive dealer, standing by him was a formidable looking man, his helmet obscuring most of his face, but the parts that were visible were pure ferocity. His racquet told Neil that he was an offensive dealer, he peeked at Gansey’s file to see what position he played, Striker. The boy standing with Adam was not Gansey. The game on the screen started. The ball spent most of the time on the other side of the court and Neil wondered why this clip had been chosen, until The ball flew towards Parrish. Then he understood exactly why. The other team’s striker was on them in a minute, hissing nasty words that Neil couldn't hear. And it seemed to Neil that Parrish couldn’t either. Instead, he focused his attention on another player. Parrish and the dealer moved around like a unit, wherever one wasn't, the other was. It was like watching a river flowing, or birds in flight (ravens, his head whispered to him, but he shook out the thought) it was like watching poetry in motion. Neil had never seen anything like it.

They moved as one until Adam passed the ball to the dealer and nodded his head, the dealer broke off from the group with a burst of speed and the clip cut off. They watched the other clips and similar skills were shown, always with the same offensive dealer.

The group sat in silence for a long while.

“Wow,” Dan said.

“Okay, now for the other one. Richard Gansey,” Coach selected his clip and waited. This clip opened on Gansey standing, marked by the other team’s backliner. Ready to play. He looked to Neil like a hurricane waiting to happen, the ball went up in the air. Gansey exploded. He caught the ball and carried it all ten paces, his long strides giving him an advantage and carrying him a far distance, the other team's backliner struggled to keep up, cursing at Gansey all the while. Neil couldn't hear anything that was being said, but it was obviously pretty bad because Gansey was not as unreactive as Parrish has been. He instead shot back a short sentence with a smile, the backliner lunged, Gansey dodged before tossing the ball to another player. The offensive dealer from before. They locked eyes for a second that, to Neil, seemed longer than it actually was. Then the dealer took off towards the other side of the court. Confused players stopped what they were doing to watch where he was going.

“What is he doing! He’s running to the wrong side of the court!” Kevin exclaimed  
Neil was also confused as to what the strategy was. Then when the dealer got to the boundary of his domain, he swung his racket and rocketed the ball over the heads of the other confused players. It had been a distraction. No one would notice the striker creeping closer to the goal if a player was running the wrong way. Only one racket reached up to catch it, Gansey’s. The ball flew into the net of the racket and then shot out towards the goal, lightning fast. The goalie never stood a chance. The clip cut out after the ball had hit the plexiglass behind the goal. Coach clicked the next one, these all seemed to feature clever and strategic plays. Neil wondered if Gansey has come up with them. They finished watching all the clips.  
“We need them,” Dan said.

“No,” Kevin said

“What? Kevin, did you see that? How can you say that?”

“Dan, those kids were amazing, but you saw the tapes, to get them, we need that dealer, and he didn't send in an application,” Kevin explained.

“We’ve gotten people without applications before, and besides, we need another offensive dealer to qualify,” Dan pointed out.

Andrew said nothing, but nodded his head.

“So, then we get the dealer. It shouldn't be that hard,” Coach said.

“Okay then,”Neil agreed. And that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The foxes try to strike up a very unusual agreement


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I have another update for you guys! I've also written quite a bit of the next one so hopefully the next update will come a lot sooner.

They had flown out to Washington D.C. then rented a car and drove for four hours to “backwater Virginia” (Coach’s words not his) to try to recruit the three kids. They were supposed to meet the man who had sent them the tapes, Declan Lynch, at a run-down looking pizza place. Nino’s said the glowing fluorescent sign at the top of the restaurant. Neil had no idea what would possess rich kids to eat in a place like this, but Neil had never claimed to understand rich kids.

A man was waiting for them outside in a suit. He looked a little bit older than Dan. He caught sight of them and an effortless smile spread across his face. It would have seemed genuine to anyone else, but Neil knew how to read people. Though when his eyes ghosted over Neil’s scars, or Andrew’s unsmiling face, his smile never faltered. Neil was not sure whether this was due to the man not being squeamish, being a good liar, having seen worse things, or all three. Neil, despite his best efforts, felt respect for the man. Anyone who could hide their true feelings that well deserved a bit of respect. The man was almost as good as Andrew. Almost.

“Hello, I’m Declan Lynch. Coach Wymack I presume,” he greeted coach. Then everyone else. They shook hands, a companionable handshake that reminded Neil more of closing a business deal than a greeting, but the man was probably used to that. He spoke with a slight accent, Virginia and… something else. Irish? His voice was like oil. A perfect businessman. Neil wondered what Declan did for the school. He was too young to coach, certainly too young to teach. But then again, maybe he was older than he looked. Some money and a good surgeon could do that to a person.

“You presume correct, now are we going in or what?”

“Of course, we’re just waiting on Gansey and Adam,” Declan ushered them towards his previous waiting spot.

“Actually we wanted to ask you something about that. Is there any possible way you could get the offensive dealer? From the clips?”

Declan’s face did a series of acrobatic tricks. “Heh, well, he won’t play for you, but as for if I can get him here? He’s already coming,”

“How do you know?” Andrew asked. The first words he had said since they arrived.

“That he won’t come with you or that he’ll be here?” Declan paused and shook his head with a laugh, a short, dark that made Neil feel like he was in on a cruel inside joke “Doesn’t matter, I should know my own brother,” Andrew looked skeptical and said nothing.

“They let you work at the same school your brother went to?” Dan asked.

“Oh, ha, no, though I see how it could have come across that way. No, I used to go to that school and I owed Headmaster Child a favor, so he called it in and asked me to meet ya-,” he cleared his throat “all of you,”. The slip in his words put a dent in his D.C. businessman facade. It humanized him. It struck Neil for that one moment that this man had been pushed into adulthood too quickly, forced to grow up. He remembered eyes ghosting over his scars and not reacting, his youth. What had this man been through?

It was at this moment that a car drove into the Nino’s parking lot. An impossibly orange one, shiny and old.

“Fox colors,” Kevin noted.

Andrew looked up at the sound of the roaring engine and nodded his head approvingly. Dan, also one to appreciate a good car, let out a low whistle. Out of the car stepped four boys. Gansey and Parrish, one wearing a soft yellow polo shirt, and the other a ratty red Coca-Cola shirt. The other boys were unfamiliar to Neil, one, Asian, his hair striving endlessly upward, looking reasonably unnerved by the car, there seemed to be something glowing and flying in lazy circles around his head. A bee? No, it was gone, must have been a trick of the light. The other however was familiar to Neil, a tall boy, wearing a black tank top, head shaved, arms adorned with a countless number of thin, black leather wristbands. Neil mentally dubbed him darkboy.

“Is that him?” He asked, pointing to the boy.

“Yes,” was all Declan said.

The boys walked, Gansey at the front, as he walked, his fingers laced through the Asian boy’s. He looked presidential. Neil almost thought he was the congressperson, not his mother. Parrish walked on one side and darkboy on the other. They looked like bodyguards.

“Look, Gansey-boy, I don’t care if I have to walk back home, I’m not riding in that bright orange death-trap. The only reason I even get in the other one is because it doesn’t have a damn engine,” The asian boy was saying. Darkboy punched his arm and he fell silent. 

“Gansey,” Declan greeted.

“Declan,” Gansey shot back. Neil could almost see the tension between the two.

“Hello Declan,” Parrish said. Declan nodded at him, Parrish nodded back.

“You weren’t at church on Sunday,” darkboy said in lieu of a greeting. This surprised Neil, both that darkboy went to church and that he would admonish his brother for not being there. Darkboy’s accent was stronger than Declan’s and definitely Irish, though it took on some henrietta affectations too. Only slightly. The result was what would have been a pleasant sound, but the growl in his voice made it feel rough and angry. 

“I took Matthew in D.C.” Declan said. Straight and businesslike. Neil wondered who Matthew was. Someone important to both of them, probably another brother.

“There’s no one here anymore, you can come down now,” darkboy protested. Neil wondered who had kept Declan in D.C. in the first place. Dan’s words echoed in his head, "they don’t exactly fit our ‘recruiting standards’, they don’t need second chances"

“The drive is four hours, Ronan, I apologize for not making an insane effort to do something you wouldn’t have appreciated in the long run,” the brothers were bolts of energy, clashing against each other.

The asian boy cleared his throat and cocked his head towards Neil and his group. Gansey shifted again. His shoulders squared, his demeanour shifted, he was once again regal. Neil had never noticed him change in the first place. It reminded him of the lay in the clip. Darkboy distracted while Gansey moved into a new position.

“Right, well, we’ll all discuss that later. Right now we’re here to talk exy yes?” they all made their way inside the restaurant. They were greeted at the door by a young woman who quite obviously did not want to be there.

“Hi and welcome to Nino’s, wait just a-,”

“Wait, Cialina, I’ve got them,” called a voice from the back. It came from a short waitress with an impressive amount of bangles on her arms and an even more impressive amount of clips in her hair.

“You and those Raven Boys,” Cialina muttered. Kevin stiffened and then relaxed. Neil felt himself doing the same. Gansey turned his head at the flinch. His face was unreadable. Then it brightened. 

“Oh, right. You all had that scare with the Ravens last year right? Sorry about that. The Raven is the aglionby mascot, so boys who go to Aglionby are often referred to as Raven boys,” Gansey explained.

“Oh,” was all Kevin said.

The girl led them to a table large enough for all of them and squeezed both Gansey’s and the asian boy’s hands. Neil wondered how she knew them.

“Geez, get a room Sargent,” joked darkboy.

Neil didn’t know if anyone else had noticed, but the boys all unconsciously leaned towards the girl, not shielding her, like what they did with Gansey, but being drawn to her, like she was a magnet.

“Ha ha,” the girl drawled in her Henrietta accent. Then she addressed Declan. “So what’ll y’all be having?”

Declan smiled at her, a genuine smile, not like the ones he had offered them outside. “Thank you Blue, I think we’ll have a couple of large cheese pizzas a pitcher of iced tea, or do any of you want water? Soda?” Declan asked the group, they all muttered their dissent. “Okay then. Work your magic,” What had he called her? Blue?

“Light on the spit Jane,” Gansey told her. Oh, that was her name. That made more sense, the “blue” must have been a Virginia thing.

“Aw, but then it won’t taste as good,” Jane said. Kevin looked unnerved. “Inside joke sweetheart,” She said to him. It didn’t look like Kevin was reassured. After she left Gansey beamed at the group.

“Jane plays Exy too. She’s a backliner,” Gansey smiled. Dan raised an eyebrow at this and nodded approvingly. 

“So, I don’t believe we know who you two are yet,” Dan stated gesturing towards darkboy and the asian boy.

“Oh, this is my brother, Ronan Lynch,” darkboy (Ronan Neil corrected himself) raised a hand in confirmation and said nothing.

“And I’m Henry, Henry Cheng, I don’t play stickball,” the asian boy said. Dan smiled.

“That’s a shame,” Kevin said

“Is it?” Dan asked.

Jane brought the iced tea to the table, trying very hard to look like she  
wasn’t eavesdropping. Andrew poured three sugar packets into his.

“Oh, it’s already sweet,” Jane pointed out. Andrew looked up at her, looked down at the tea, looked back up at her, and took a sip of his tea. “Okay then,” and she was on her way.

“So you want to sign u-,” Parrish was cut off by a long, loud slurp that came from a straw when someone finished a drink. The ‘someone’ in question was Andrew. He set his drink on the table.

“I’ll be out back when the food gets here,” Andrew said to Neil, and walked out of the restaurant.

Gansey looked reasonably alarmed by this outburst. Ronan watched Andrew leave with raised eyebrows and an almost appreciative look on his face, as if he envied Andrew’s ability to be so carelessly rude. Parrish looked as if nothing was wrong, like he was used to this behavior. Neil didn’t know if he was used to being cut off, or rudeness, Neil hoped it was neither. Parrish looked up at him, as if he could read his mind. And sent him a small smile, it was the kind of smile people gave when they were given a gift that they don’t particularly want. "Oh! Um, thanks! You didn’t have to. You really didn’t have to." Neil could imagine him saying. Neil reminded himself not to pity this boy, he didn’t want it, and Neil suspected he didn’t need it. Neil had no problem with that.

He moved his eyes to study Ronan. The boy was currently leaning back in his chair and looking extremely bored. It was a calculated position which would have looked casual had it not been for the furrowing of the brow, or the particular crossing of the leg, it took a lot of practice to look this bored in a social setting, and this boy had almost managed it.

Lynch, Ronan that is, caught Neil staring and sent him a ferocious grin. Neil looked away.

“So, um, as I was saying before, you wanted to sign us?” Parrish said. He and Ronan leaned ever so slightly towards Gansey while he spoke. Angling himself to the best position to protect. Neil raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know if Adam looked like him after all. Seeing him in person, his eyes, the set of his jaw, his defiant way of carrying himself, everywhere Neil thought he had seen himself, he now saw Andrew. It seemed absurd now that anyone had ever thought this boy looked like him. 

“Yes, but about that-” Kevin started.

“Order up,” Jane said, carrying an alarming amount of pizza for her size.

“Yes, thank you,” Kevin smiled at her, his T.V. smile. Jane did not look impressed.

“Look, I apologize for interrupting you and everything sir, but there’s no need to smile at me like that, I get enough of it from them,” Jane pointed to Gansey and Declan. “Not so much from them, but Adam is learning, you’d better watch out,” Jane pointed to Ronan and Parrish. Kevin looked perfectly alarmed. If Neil could frame this moment, he would.

“Ooh, I like this one, what did you say your name was? Jane?” Dan asked. 

Jane winced, then shot a glare at Gansey, who put his hands up in a hey, not my fault motion, Jane sighed and smiled at Dan. “Sorry ma’am, no, my name’s Blue, Blue Sargent, this one just doesn’t like my name,” another point to Gansey who had an innocent look on his face. Oh, Neil thought. Okay then.

“So he just.. calls you by a whole different name,” Dan asked.

“That’s the idea ma’am,”

“Hey, no need for any ‘ma’am’s here, just call me Dan, I’m trying to get a scope of your boys here before we scoop them up to South Carolina,” Kevin glared at Dan, probably for assuming that the boys would just come without complaint, but maybe also because Dan had spoiled the point he had been building up to. Blue visibly deflated a bit.

“South.. Carolina,” she said, a bit wonderstruck. She shook her head, gave them all one last smile, refilled their glasses, and walked off.

“Right, well actually, about that, there was something we needed to talk to you about,” Coach started. “You’ve both definitely got a seat on our team, but we were wondering if Mr. Lynch here would be so kind as to join as well,”

“No,” was all Ronan said.

“No?” Kevin asked,. Neil would’ve thought with the amount of times that Kevin had been said no to, he would have gotten used to it by now. 

Ronan’s face solidifies into all angles and edges “Sorry if you expected me to come rushing over to play Exy for you because you think I'm pathetic or that I ‘need a second chance’s or whatever your sales pitch is, but I'm happy where I am, thanks,” there is an edge of sincerity to his words, but it is smothered by the condescension dropping from them.

“Ronan, at least hear them out,” Declan protested. This was obviously the wrong thing to say. Ronan’s head snapped, to look at Declan and his gaze turned to ice.

“You did this,”

“What? Ronan, that doesn’t make sense,”

“You chose the clips, there were a thousand damn clips, I wasn’t in most of them, and yet, who shows up in Nowheresville, Virginia, asking if I’ll join the top fucking team in the league,”

“Hey, your brother was the one who told us that you wouldn’t come with us, don't get mad at him, this was all just a big coincidence,” Coach tried

“The word coincidence means something different to you than it does to us,” Ronan spat. Neil noticed that Ronan included the rest of his group in the statement. He got up, and made to walk out.

I don't like that word Andrew spat somewhere in the depths of Neil’s mind don't use it. If that was how it was going to be, then Neil had an idea.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Neil said. Ronan stopped walking. Coach and Kevin looked at him like he had just grown a second head

“What?” Ronan still didn’t turn around.

“I’ll make you a deal, you know, when someone agrees to do something for another person in return for the other pers-,”

“I know what a deal is, I’m not an idiot,” 

In the brief silence that followed, Neil looked at the rest of his posse. Gansey was looking at him, a calculating look in his eye, gone was the golden facade, and Neil knew it was purposeful this time “Good to know,”

“No,”

“You didn't even listen to what I said had to offer,” Neil protested

“I'm not coming, whatever you offer me. There's nothing you could offer me that would make me,”

“What's the deal?” This was a new voice, Henry. A soft smile was on his face, but it did little to offset the set of his shoulders and tilt of his head, he was curious.

“Oh fuck off Cheng,” Ronan growled venomously.

“Hear him out Ronan, you don’t have to take the deal,” a soft voice called. Parrish.

Ronan turned around and walked back to the table, and sat down with a slam. “What,”

You have my attention, now keep my interest. Neil thought. What was he going to offer this boy? He thought back to earlier in the evening and went out on a limb.

“Blue,”

“The maggot? What about her?”

“Did she apply to the school?”

“No,”

“We wanted her to, but she said it wasn’t up to her,” Cheng added helpfully.

“Play for us, and we’ll give her a shot,” Neil said. “It won’t be a free ride, but if she can prove her potential, it would a chance to be part of the foxes and attend PSU,”

“No,” Four voices said at once. All of the Henrietta boys. Neil guessed his limb was wrong.

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate the offer, but uh..,” Gansey, ever the gracious one, tried to make a point, but didn’t seem to know how to finish it.

“Right, we know you mean well, but it’s not.. um..,” Parrish, a little closer to the truth, but still not quite what they were trying to say.

“We just don’t think that, geez, how do we explain this?” Cheng, looking almost confused.

“The maggot doesn’t want your pity and neither do I so you can take your deal and shove it up your goddamn ass,” Ronan finished. Ah, okay, that was what they meant. 

“Well you all had no problem answering for her,” Dan observed, looking a little ticked.

“Things like this have happened before, and unless it was absolutely necessary, the answer has always been the same,” Gansey told her.

“Fair enough,” Neil said.

Gansey, however was not ready to let the subject drop. “Ronan, could I speak with you for a second. They stood and left the table for a bit. Neil could still see them. Gansey said something to Ronan and Ronan responded and it soon blew up into a full-blown argument. Then Gansey said something that made Rona collapse in on himself. They trudged back in and sat down.

No one said anything. 

Andrew and Blue walked in together, Andrew sat down. Blue went into the kitchens.

“You didn’t call me when the food got here,” He said 

“I saved you some,” Neil stated.

Andrew grunted and shifted back in his chair. 

“One year,” Ronan said.

“What?” Coach Wymack

“One year, that’s it, that’s how long I’ll play for you. As for after that, I’m not sure, if I like it, I’ll stay, okay?” Ronan glared at Gansey while saying all of this.

“Really? Just like that?” Dan asked “No strings attached?”

“Yeah,” Ronan grumbled.

“Well okay then,” Coach said, surprised.

Neil caught sight of Blue, standing by the door to the kitchens, looking like they had just taken away her last hope. Then she shook her head out of it and a more determined look crossed her face. She grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and walked to their table to refill their glasses. Andrew looked at her and his brow furrowed. Blue looked at him like "I know, I know, I’m going, give me a second". She put the pitcher down and took a deep breath.

“I want a chance to play for you too. I don’t expect an automatic entry in, but I do want a chance,” Blue said, her accent twanging off her words “Now I know this ain't exactly orthodox, but well, you see-,”

“Okay,” Coach says

“Yes but- wait what?” 

“I said okay, if Mr. Lynch allows us to use the Aglionby Exy court,” Coach looks at Declan, who immediately nods.

“Headmaster Child owes me a favor,”

“Yeah, he owes you a few favors,” Ronan mumbled under his breath, and Parrish giggled. 

“Ronan,” Gansey chides. Looking very much like a father scolding a child. Cheng draped his arms around Gansey’s neck and kissed his cheek.

“Calm down, Gansey-man, he jokes sometimes,” Henry whispered into Gansey’s jaw.

“Th-thank you sir,” Blue stutters, takes her pitcher and leaves.

///////////

A few states away a pager beeped five times in a white Mitsubishi outside a tuna sandwich shop that wasn't as good as the one in Henrietta. The driver looked at the pager and smiles.

“Well look at that, we've got all of them,” the driver says, and looks out the window. The sound of the kinks fills the car. There are three sandwiches in the passenger seat and the driver regards them. 

Three not-as good-as-in-Henrietta sandwiches later, the driver turned around to the man gagged and tied up in the back of the car. “You get to see Blue again,” she said, Bronx accent swarming around them like smoke. “Ain't that nice Mr. Gray?”

The gray man glared at the driver.

“Now now, don't look like that,” a pause “actually, carry on, it's the most reaction I've gotten out of you all day. You don't like me talking about her, do you?” 

The gray man's face smoothed out.

“Oh, that's no fun,” She reached over, removed his gag, and narrowly escaped having her fingers bitten off.

“You'll have to try better than that, Mr. Gray,”

“It was worth a try, no?” his voice was calm, it always was. It always had been.

“I'll give you that, you know, you're being awfully rude to the woman who's the only thing keeping you from being kidnapped and tortured by the dream mafia,”

“Really, that’s what you’re going with? You kidnapped and tortured me to keep me from being kidnapped and tortured,”

“Okay, you got me with the kidnapping thing, you’re right about that, but there has been no torture,” The girl denied adamantly.

“Any time tied up and gagged in the back of a car with no seatbelt while you’re driving can be considered torture,” He stated. She mulled it over and conceded.

“Alright, fair enough, I won’t put the gag back on, that way you can backseat drive,”

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” 

“So, South Carolina,”

“I wasn’t kidding, you will get to see those kids again,”

The gray man smiled at her, she recalled a time when her knees used to go weak at that smile, she remembered a time where she would kiss it off him. That time had long since passed, but her knees still went a bit quivery. Damn you legs, he’s taken now.

“One can hope,” he said. 

They looked at the moon.

And that was the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Blue and Andrew's conversation, more insight into the driver, and some of the other foxes!
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Andrew had no intention of witnessing the personal affairs of the new recruits. No intention at all, he just wanted a smoke, and he had been having one by the dumpster until the waitress from inside walked out. Pacing back and forth. She didn’t seem to see him.

She didn’t say anything, but kept pacing. Three steps right, five steps left, four steps right, three steps left, four steps right, five steps left, five steps right, five steps left. As her steps evened out, she seemed to calm down. Andrew took a long drag on his cigarette and tried to decide whether it would be more beneficial to make his presence known or not. He had just decided to clear his throat when the girl abruptly stopped moving. Interesting. Andrew decided to wait.

“South Carolina,” She said, in a dazed voice. “South. Carolina,” She said her voice a bit sterner this time. “South Carolina?” incredulous. “Okay, calm down, it's not that big. No, wait, yes it is. Well, they won't say yes. No, wait, top team in the league, of course they will. Alright, so Gansey? Gone. Adam? Gone. Henry? Can afford to go with them, so in the long run, gone. Ronan? Well, okay then. Ronan,” Andrew found that this girl's mental tally of allies amusing and uncannily similar to his own, not enough for him to care about her or what happened to her, but enough to decide that he likes her. 

He had just put an end to this train of thought when he saw a blinking light flying towards the girl. It looked like an insect of some sort, a bee? The glowing bee landed on the waitress’s nose, instead of jerking back or trying to get away from it like someone else would, the girl leaned into the touch, like it was comforting. Andrew decided he had had enough of this.

“What the fuck,” he said “is that,” he said, pointing to the bee. The waitress jumped, and her head shot towards Andrew. He noticed that he was taller than her. He decided that he liked being taller than someone.

“It’s a Henrietta bee,” she said, quickly recovering from the scare “Bees glow here,” As she said that, the bee flew away into the distance.

“Uh huh,” Andrew said, not convinced but not willing to have a conversation with this strange shorter-than-him girl. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to spy on people?” She asked

“No,” he responded, and left it at that. The girl nodded gravely like that explained everything.

“They often don’t,” she said. Andrew thought that his mother did a lot more than what other mothers ‘often’ did. He didn’t say anything

There was a long silence, Andrew took it to appreciate how nice it was to have someone he could look in the eye for once. He also decided to count how many times the girl blinked. The rule usually was that if they blinked at least four times before ending the silence, they were probably going to be tolerable. Five for almost likeable company. Aaron always waited six. Renee always waited seven. Betsy waited as long as he did, but she’d had practice, Neil usually only waited three, the little drama queen piece of shit. He was the one exception to the rule. One. Two. Three. Four. Okay. Five. Better. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. This was getting kind of strange. Contrary to popular belief, Andrew was not actually a big fan of long silences, his criteria for “long” was just a bit longer than other people’s.

“So, are you going to go in there and stop all your boys from leaving or are you just going to stand out here like an idiot and let them leave,” With all her rambling on about all her friends leaving her, Andrew’s interest had been piqued.

“What am I going to do? Just forbid them to leave,” Ah. She was giving up. Boring. 

“Can you?”

“Ha-ha,” it hadn’t been a joke, but Andrew wasn’t going to tell her that. There was another long silence. Seven blinks long. Maybe Andrew was wrong, maybe this girl blinked more often than others. He counted the time between the fifth and sixth blink, no, fifteen seconds, same as Nicky (who usually waited three blinks)

“How am I going to pull this off?” 

“What do I know, you’re the one who’s life depends on five boys who are going to leave you without a second thought,”

“They won’t,” she did not say that her life didn’t depend on them. Interesting. 

“Alright then,”

Five-blink long silence.

“You have people you care about right?” The waitress said suddenly.

Faces flashed across Andrew’s mind. Renee, bruises forming on cheeks and a smile on her face anyway, Betsy drinking hot cocoa, Aaron slaving over a textbook,  Nicky, phone between shoulder and head, chatting with Erik and scooping some scrambled eggs onto Andrew’s plate, Neil, cupping a cigarette on the roof.

“No,” he told her. She looked at him like she could see right through him. People often thought they could. Boring.

Long pause, nine blinks long.

“What do you carry in those armbands?” Andrew had no idea how the girl had found out. Interesting.

“Knives,” Andrew said, seeing no reason to lie.

“ _ No _ ,” the girl said “You can’t just say that, carrying around knives is illegal here,” Boring.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine?” He had not meant it, but the girl raised an eyebrow and reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a tiny pink switchblade and flicked it out. The dim neon light of the Nino’s sign glinted off the blade and the girl’s hair, eyes, and skin, she looked like energy exuded from her very being. Andrew got the sense that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that he was breathing in different air than this girl, that she was made of something different than him. Interesting. He unsheathed his knife in return and held it in a place where no light would hit the blade, wanting to look just as absorbent as this girl did reflective. “What’s a girl in a nice town like this doing with a knife,” 

“It was a gift,” she said, re-pocketing her knife.

“You got an illegal knife as a gift,” he said, sheathing his.

“Yes,”

“Uh-huh,” Andrew said, not convinced but not willing to question it.

Long silence. Six blinks long.

He didn’t know why, but something told him to help this girl. An infuriating little gut feeling that Andrew never wanted to listen to but always did anyway “Ask,”

“What?”

“You want something. So ask,”

“It’s not that simple,” borderline Boring.

“Make it that simple,”

“Alright,”

Long silence. Eight blinks long. 

“Oh, by the way, the food’s done,” She said

Son of a bitch. Andrew promised himself that he’d kill Neil when he got the opportunity.

They took off towards the entrance. They heard into the two boys, Ronan Lynch and Richard Gansey in the middle of a conversation. The girl held up a hand to stop him, she intended to listen in on the conversation. Interesting.

“Look, Ronan, no one says you had to do it the whole time,” Gansey’s voice was pleading, it reminded Andrew of the girl’s tone outside as she recounted her friend’s names.  _ Gone. Gone. Gone. Ronan. _ It seemed she was about to lose Ronan as well.

“I thought that I wouldn’t have to do ‘it’ at all,” Ronan’s tone was pure ice. “I thought that it would be one year and then done, I thought that you actually fucking believed that,”

“Ronan, I know that this situation isn’t exactly paramount, but if you would just give it a chance, I think that you co-,”

“No, Gansey. You keep throwing me at school, hoping that one of these days, I’m going to realize that I actually want to be there, well guess fucking what Gansey? I don’t. I never have and I never will. Just because you’re used to getting everything you want, doesn’t mean you can get it from me,” oh, they were talking about how Lynch didn’t want to go to college. Boring.

“Ronan I’m no-,”

“Oh you’re not? Left your parent’s home at age sixteen. Bought an abandoned factory to avoid living in the dorms. Started playing Exy just to prove you could juggle school and everything else,” These all seemed like typical rich-kid things to do. Andrew was getting more bored by the second, he was starting to question this girl’s taste.

“I’d watch my tongue if I were you,” Gansey said, his voice had gone stern. He seemed to be reluctant to say anything that would hurt Ronan, but absolutely capable of doing so.

Ronan let out a laugh, and  _ oh _ Andrew knew that laugh, it was the laugh of someone who had already gone too far and did not mean any of the words they were saying, but would keep saying them in an effort to push away the person being spoken to. 

“Hell, the whole motherfucking search for Glendower was just you trying to get closure for something that happened years ago,” The girl tensed up beside him. Strange. Andrew reviewed the words that had been said. Finding the dead body of a king that had died centuries ago was closure? Interesting.

“Stop it, Ronan,” Gansey ordered. He sounded tired. He knew exactly what Ronan was trying to do, Andrew would even wager that he had seen it before.

“Couldn’t choose between Cheng or the maggot, so you decided hey, why not have both?”

“That is  _ enough _ ,” Gansey’s voice was the darkest shadow on a new moon, Andrew had heard approximations of this kind of voice, imitations, crude forgeries that had once made Andrew pause to listen, but comparing this voice to those was like comparing black to navy blue. “You can say whatever you want about me Ronan, heaven knows you’ve done so in the past, but don’t,  _ don’t you dare _ bring either of them into this,”

“Gansey, I-,” It was quite clear that Ronan knew he had overstepped his bounds and was trying to backtrack, but the damage had been done.

“No, Ronan you’ve said quite enough,” There was a pause so long that Andrew thought the conversation had ended, it wasn’t where he would have ended it, but if everyone did things the way that Andrew did them, the world would be much simpler. He was just about to push past the girl when Gansey said something else “I was just hoping that after everything that’s happened, you’d change your mind about this,”. Andrew heard footsteps, one pair sounding decidedly more defeated than the other

Andrew didn’t feel he’d heard nearly enough, but pushed past the girl anyway to his seat. He still hadn’t eaten. There would be other days to question the strange boys.

///////////

The last time the Gray Man had full control of his hands had been four days ago. He was just outside of a 24/7 drugstore in Utah at midnight, stocking up with food for the week. He had been just about to make his way to Oregon in his stolen white car when he had been greeted with 

“Hey, Gray, long time no see,” and an ex-girlfriend with a bundle of rope and a wine bottle. A 1979 pinot grigio, it was a good choice, the green glass of the bottle made it unclear of whether the bottle was full or not

“Scarlet, always a pleasure,” Clad in a black leather jacket, shirt, leggings, and her signature red lipstick, she looked exactly like the last time he had seen her. ( _ and _ , a little annoying part of his brain chimed in,  _ a lot like a certain psychic _ )

“Still writing?” She remembered. A small part of his brain was happy that she did, a larger part was wondering why she was here.

“Yes, still singing?”

“Yeah, I have other hobbies though. Yo, I know we’re pretending to be all leisurely or whatever, but we don’t actually have that much time, I only have about three minutes to kidnap you, so tie this around your wrists and legs or I’ll knock you out and do it for you,” Ah, so that was what she was doing here, figures.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t in the business of kidnapping people,”  He hadn’t really kept tabs on her since he left New York, but the fact still stood that kidnapping wasn’t something he remembered her doing.

“It’s been years, you don’t exactly have any authority on the matter. Great job of making an enemy of half the criminal organizations in the world by the way, we’re lucky the Moriyamas are under some new management otherwise you would have been dead already,”  The Gray man did not know who she was referring to when she said ‘we’ but something told him that he was included.

“We’re a long way from New York,”

“We’re a long way from Virginia, what’s your point? You know what, doesn’t matter, are you taking the rope or am I knocking you out?” This statement told The Gray Man three things. One, that she had been watching him in Virginia, meaning that she had possibly been watching Blue and Maura and Fox Way, two, that she was impatient, meaning he did not have a lot of time to escape, and three, that if he did try to escape he had to try something that she had not yet planned for, which was almost impossible.

“What is this about?” Five openings, he could run. She was faster than him. He could incapacitate her. Yes, she never seemed to plan for a fight. He could surge towards her twist her arm around her back and-

“That’s a no then, sorry doll,” Then she very masterfully smashed the wine bottle over his head.

When he woke up again, he was in the backseat of the Mitsubishi, tied and gagged and without a seatbelt. This was decidedly not how he wanted to spend his morning. He smelled like 1979 pinot grigio. 

He sat up in his seat, catching the attention of the driver. Scarlet looked at him and smiled like he was waking up from a nap rather than a wine-bottle-induced unconsciousness.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” 

“How long was I out?” He asked, or tried to ask, the gag in his mouth stopped him, Scarlet seemed to understand though.

“When my alarm goes off, it’ll be ten past two,” just as she said it, “Defying Gravity” blared from her phone. She silenced it. He had been unconscious for just under eight minutes, not enough for any serious damage to have occurred, okay, he was okay. It also meant that in eight minutes, Scarlet was able to set an alarm, gag him, tie his limbs, and shove him in the backseat of his car, meaning she was in a hurry. 

“Hey do you think the gag was overkill? I mean, I know I had to tie you up, or you would have gotten away, but I wasn’t sure if I should’ve gagged you or not because, as you mentioned before, I don’t have much experience with so I thought ‘why not do it anyway? If it’s too much, I can take it off later, but if I don’t, then he’ll scream and I’ll get caught anyway’ and I ain’t try’na get caught you know? And it’s all for appearances, I’ve got to make them think this is against your will so they don’t come after me too, I’m going to untie you at the next stop anyway, after I tell you what I’ve got planned, you’re not going to want to leave,”  Gray man doubted that any plan Scarlet came up with could make him want to stay under these conditions (even if she claimed he wouldn’t be for much longer). They usually contained some very gruesome, tedious, meticulously timed bits that no one liked performing, her least of all. They always proved necessary after they happened, but they were all ridiculously complicated.

As she rambled, The Gray Man’s eyes scanned the scene, she had locked the doors. She wasn’t driving. Yet. They were still parked in front of the drug store. “Look, Gray, if you’re looking for an exit, then I suggest you stop, I spent months planning this thing, ever since I caught wind that you shot Lomonier, good job of making a royal mess of things by the way,” That seemed like her, to spend months planning something pointless. “So I suggest you get some sleep, in exactly five minutes, we’re going to take off to North Carolina, and if everything goes to plan, then we’re heading down to South Carolina, and then, we’re going to end this grand clusterfuck,”

The Gray Man was not sure what she meant and tried to convey that. The gag and rope made it kind of hard. “Are you really that slow? Keep up, Gray, we’re ending the war,” Oh.  _ Oh.  _

The Gray Man sat up and settled in for the ride. 

///////////

The henrietta crew, when hearing that the foxes planned to stay in a hotel for the night, insisted that,  _ oh no you can’t _ (Gansey), _ you should come stay with us for the night _ (Blue),  _ please, we insist _ (Henry),  _ that hotel is trash  _ (Ronan). Adam hadn’t said a thing, but looked comforting and apologetic like a good southern boy. Upon the foxes’s agreement, they had split up the foxes into smaller, easier to manage portions, Dan, Neil, and Andrew had gone with Blue and Gansey to 300 Fox Way, where they lived at the moment, Ronan and Adam were going to some place called ‘St. Agnes’. Dan didn’t know what it was, (she guessed a church) but it had been agreed upon that it wouldn’t fit more than two. Kevin and Coach would be spending the night at Litchfield House, where Henry lived. He had long since disappeared with Kevin and coach (into a sleek black mercedes that had Dan practically drooling) with a shout of “Koh! You’re going to love me for this!”

As the rented mini-van followed the Camaro to a tiny, run down looking church, Dan found herself thinking that no one could live here, it could barely fit a child, much less two teenage boys. And yet, they got out of the Camaro and headed up the stairs to a tiny little apartment. Ronan slid his hands back across his shaved scalp and looked at Adam like he had hung the moon. Adam looked right back like Ronan had scattered the stars. Right before they walked into the room, Dan saw Adam grab Ronan’s hand and give it a comforting squeeze before leading him into the small apartment. In spite of herself, Dan caught a small smile spreading across her face.

They followed the bright orange car to a small, rickety looking house with a sign for what looked like a psychic business’s rates and hours. She made eye contact with Neil.  _ This should be interesting. _

When they entered, they were immediately greeted with a shout of “BLUE, GANSEY, BLUE’S GUESTS, DID YOU KILL ANYONE, OR GO THROUGH SOME MAJOR SOUL-BONDING?” Dan guessed these folk were pretty insistent on keeping the “psychic” brand up, they must have seen them come in from one of the windows.

“NEITHER,’” the girl in question hollered back.

“THEN WHY ARE Y’ALL SO DAMN LOUD ALL OF A SUDDEN,” 

“WE HAVE GUESTS, CALLA,”

“I KNOW,”

“THEN COME DOWN AND GREET THEM AND FIND OUT,”

“You could stop being so loud, thats a completely viable option too,” Drawled a Henrietta accent from a ridiculously bright green couch.

“Hi mom, come meet the foxes,” A tall, dark, slender woman made her way across the room from the couch. Dan did not believe in psychics, she didn’t think the future could be predicted, but this woman was exactly what Dan’s mental image of a psychic looked like. Though the cocktail in her hand threw off the image. A screwdriver.

Blue also caught sight of it “You didn’t make that yourself did you? Because I don’t want to call the emergency room today,” 

Blue’s mother gave a “Ha ha,” without any humor. “No, Calla made it for me, she went up when she finished hers,”

Blue gave a nod and unknowingly tangled her hand through Gansey’s. Dan wasn’t sure who that boy was dating, she was leaning towards Henry, but it seemed like it could be Blue as well. “Is it any good?” Blue asked.

Her mother sighed as if disappointed, but then she said “Yes, very good, just the right amount of vodka,” Blue dropped Gansey’s hand to give her mother’s hand a comforting squeeze before dropping that as well. “Hello there, I’m Blue’s mother, Maura Sargent. Who might y’all be?” Her mother said, addressing them. Dan stepped forward to introduce them all.

“Hi, I’m Dan Wilds, this is Neil Josten, and the surly blonde is Andrew Minyard,” that earned her a glare. She looked over at Andrew with a smile and the glare increased tenfold.  _ If looks could kill… _

“Yes, my niece is a very big fan of yours,” Maura turned to look at Blue “Try to keep Orla away from them for at least five minutes, she's on a call right now but we're not sure if it's with a client or a boyfriend,”

“Gotcha,” Blue said. “Let's show y'all to your rooms before she realizes who's here and swarms you. Gansey?”

“Right,” said the boy. “Follow me folks,” Gansey led them up the stairs, it was a small dimly lit stairway, with lots of doors opening into different little rooms, Dan peeked inside into vastly different rooms to find vastly different rooms. A room containing about 3 women all looking into a dark bowl filled in with grape juice, not speaking to each other. A room painted black and decorated with millions of silver shining stars, they were placed with unnatural accuracy to the sky. She was notified by Gansey that this room belonged to Calla, the woman who had yelled at them when they walked in. A room painted bright pink, and decorated with pictures of half naked boys and girls, and fully-clothed exy players, she caught Matt and Renee among them and wondered if there was a picture of herself, when she caught sight of it.

A big poster, the biggest one in the room, framed with pink, construction paper hearts and captioned with things like ‘goals’ and ‘my queen’ and featuring a (quite flattering) picture of her leaping into the air and yelling in victory. It was the first game that she had ever won, her freshman year of college. Dan was quite flattered. She felt herself go a little red. She guessed this was Orla’s room. She avoided looking in any other rooms from that point on.

When they got to their own little room, Dan was struck by how normal it was compared to the others. It was painted a neutral blue-gray, and a bunk bed was pressed against the back wall. A small mattress had been hastily shoved to the opposite wall as if someone knew that there would be three of them. These people were really big on this psychic thing. Gansey stood by the door like a watchman awaiting a coming army.

They settled in and dropped their things by their own beds. Neil rather childishly claimed the top bunk. Dan sighed. This kid was going to be the death of her. She and Andrew looked at each other for a few seconds. They both wanted bottom bunk. They didn't blink. Dan felt her eyes start to water.  _ No, keep it together girl _ . Finally she gave in and blinked. She resigned herself to the mattress where she would be spending the rest of the night. 

“No no, Orla you can’t-,”

There was a loud crash my the doorway. Gansey collapsed to the ground Then a girl who reminded Dan an awful lot of Allison rushed in. Her black hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, with a pucker of bright red (Dan had to find out what lipstick she wore, it never came out that pigmented on her) she looked like a girl who always had something to say. Her hands held three baskets. Dan prepared herself for the usual response to fans. Orla opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but no sound came out. She tried again a few times to no avail. Finally she gave up and held up the three baskets in front of her. She gave one to Dan and the other two to Andrew, who took a look at them and handed the less colorful of the two to Neil. The girl turned 180 degrees and made her way to the door where Gansey was looking at them with a mixture of shock and smugness.

“Shut up Gansey,” Orla said as tromped down the stairs.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Gansey replied, and followed her down.

Dan took a look at her basket, it was split into sections with woven strips of orange and white construction paper ,each containing a little trinket. A plastic ring painted silver with a bright orange gem in the middle, a mini-book the size of Dan’s thumb entitled ‘most successful Exy plays’, another mini-book entitled ‘advice for the month of September’, a red candy rosebud, a new tube of red lipstick (how had she known?), and two bottles of nail polish, one white and one fox orange. Andrew unearthed another mini-book (though Dan couldn’t see what the title was) and a basket load of candy. Neil unearthed twelve mini-books and a red candy rosebud.

“Wow, you got a lot of stuff Dan,” Neil noticed, Andrew only acknowledged with a grunt. 

“We’ll thank her in the morning, let’s get some sleep now,” Dan said. They got under their own covers, and they slept.

////////////

Back in South Carolina, a certain 6’4 exy player was trying to sleep as well. Matt Boyd had just gotten to the stage where he knew sleep was imminent, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet, when a familiar face called his phone. Matt, too asleep to read the screen, just answered.

“Hey, Dan?” he said.

“Call your girlfriend another time Boyd, we have work to do,” Matt was awake.

“Jiang?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Matt had no Idea why Jiang would be calling his phone, he sent a quick glance to his calendar and it became clear.

“Tell Kavinsky that I don’t want to come to his fourth party, I told you last year, stop calling me,” Matt growled. This had happened last year too, except it had been Kavinsky calling. It had been the summer after he quit, the summer Neil came to them, the summer of the year they had won the championships. Matt took it as a sign that quitting had given him a lot of good things.

There was a sound on the other end, like Jiang had dropped the phone, then a scuffle. Then Swan picked it up and said

“Right, we’ll… we’ll let him know you said that, but that’s not why we called,” If Matt had known Swan better, he would have asked about the pause in his voice, but Matt did not, and so, he didn’t ask.

“Then why did you call,” Matt had always liked Swan, he was the most fun to be around.

“We just wanted to let you know there was trouble coming your way, the new recruits you’re picking up,” 

“What? How’d you know about that?”

“Small town. News travels fast,” 

Matt suspected there was more to it than that, but he did not ask.

“Right,”

“Oh, and there’s a woman coming too, got long dark hair, always somehow wearing red lipstick, new york accent, she’s coming too, steer clear,”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we know you, and you’ve made it good. Quit and won the league and all that. No offense, but we don’t want you back here next summer,”

“None taken. Swan, what’s going on?” Matt was getting scared.

“If you don’t know anything about it, then we’re doing our job. Just focus on winning this year, you won us a fortune last year when you won. We were the only ones betting on you,” Matt doubted that, he couldn’t have made them more than they already had, but the sentiment was there, and with people like Swan, it was the only thing that mattered. Matt felt oddly nostalgic. Which was strange, he had never been all that close to Swan, and you couldn’t be nostalgic for something you didn’t have.

“And kiss that babe you’ve got next time you see her!,” Skov piped up from the other end “That honey needs some love!” Matt tried to restrain the urge to punch something that somehow always happened to show up when Skov said something.

“Right, okay,”

“Hey,” said Jiang, sounding much angrier and much darker than he had before. “Ask the new recruits what happened to Kavinsky when you see them- no, Prokopenko, ask them what happened to Proko, preferably Lynch, if you can, make him as un-fucking-comfortable as possible, he deserves it,”  Matt was not sure what these people had against the new recruits, and he did not want to know. 

“Alright, I’ll try,” he said to appease them. “Bye,”

“Bye, Boyd,” said Swan softly. Swan hardly ever did anything loudly. There was a pause. “Call more often, okay? It wouldn’t kill us to know how you are.

“I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Have a good night Boyd,”

“Good night Swan,”

They hung up. On both sides, the boys breathed a sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so the dream pack ended up making an unexpected appearance here, but Matt's dad needed to get his drugs somewhere right? I don't know, it made sense in my head. Also Orla! Don't worry, we get the chatty cousin we all know and love back next chapter
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Next Time: We get more Orla! Blue shows us her stuff, Scarlet and the Gray man get to South Carolina and see a familiar face


	4. Chapter 4

 

Orla did not very much like being speechless. She did not do it often.

 

When she did, the circumstances were usually good enough to distract her from it. Like a good song or movie, or an interesting thought, or a girl or guy that was particularly good with their hands or mouth.

 

Being speechless in front of a woman she had been idolizing for years was a perfect example of when Orla did not like being speechless.

 

She had not spent months learning how to make candy rosebuds with fizzy filling like Persephone made once upon a time (when things were simple, and Persephone was alive, and Blue wasn’t leaving Henrietta, and Orla didn’t know what West Virginia was like and it didn’t seem a little better than home, and she didn’t know why Blue wanted to leave so much), and buy adorable miniature books and scry for months to fill up 426 pages of personalized advice to be speechless in front of Dan Wilds. 

 

She had no time for it. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was  _ wrong _ . Yet, here she was, in the kitchen, after being rendered speechless.

 

She got an impression that Gansey would come in soon for a soda. Orla did not particularly want to watch a prissy boy drink coke from a glass, she most certainly did not want to do that after being embarrassed in front of her celebrity crush of four years.

 

Orla tried to figure out a way to exit the room without passing his royal highness in the hallway, but the closer he got, the harder it was. It was like waiting for the last bit of molasses to slide it’s way out of the container without helping it with a spoon. You knew it would happen, but it was agony to wait. Orla didn’t know why she was still waiting. She sighed and stood up to leave when, of course, the royal prick walked in. Orla did not know why she did his to herself.

 

“Hello Orla,” Gansey said, and went to get a coke from the fridge. Orla waited for him to get the dreaded glass. He didn’t.  _ Oh thank god.  _ He instead popped open the tab and took a swig right from the can. And damn, if she didn’t want to punch his pretty little face in for making that look dignified too. Gansey had a way of conforming to every environment and doing it a little better than herself that made her want to shove her foot in his face.

 

He didn’t do anything besides drink his soda, but Orla just knew he would start berating her any moment. She braced herself. He finished his soda and began to walk out of the kitchen.

 

“That’s it?” she said right before he left.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

“No, ‘some mess you made up there Orla’? No, ‘oh Orla you’re seeming awfully quiet today’? I know you think I’m a blinking idiot so just tell me and stop acting all Richard Campbell Gansey the Third at me, it’s rude and I won’t have it,”

 

There was a pause. Then, “has anyone ever told you that you're a lot like Blue?”

 

As a matter of fact, they had not. Most people said that Blue was a lot like her, the way Gansey worded it only made her angrier, as is she hadn’t been being herself first.

 

“Nevermind Gansey, this was dumb,” She tried to leave, but Gansey held an arm out to stop her.

 

“I know how you feel, or, well I think I know how you feel. I’m trying to be emphatic,”

 

“It ain’t working, you’ve never been speechless a day in your life,” Orla sidestepped the arm and he didn’t try to stop her again. She didn’t leave though.

 

“How would you know?” It wasn’t a challenge, but a genuine question.

 

Her answer was immediate, practiced “I’m a psychic,”

 

“That’s not how it works. I’ve spent some time among psychics you know, now and before arriving Henrietta as well, and if I know one thing, I know that’s not how it works,”

 

“See, no way you have ever been speechless in your life, not with the wit and the vocabulary and the rich-boy press practice,” Another thought struck her “And how do you know that’s not how my kind of psychic works, if you know so much about psychics, then you know that there are different types, mine might make me super-mind-sensitive,”

 

Gansey opened his mouth to answer. Orla braced herself for the rich-boy knockdown. It didn’t happen. Instead, Gansey closed his mouth and thought for a second. Then he shrugged, nodded, and walked out of the kitchen.

 

Orla had no idea what just happened. Then it occurred to her, had she just rendered him speechless? Orla thought on it for a second.

 

She burst out laughing, it wasn’t funny, and even if it had been, her timing had been off, but the ridiculousness of it all sent her into hysterics.. She was still laughing when Danielle fucking Wilds walked in with bed head, cute pajamas, and a sleepy look on her face. Shit. Orla felt the world go still and silent for a moment, then knew exactly what was going to happen. Dan was going to ask for a glass of water.

 

She opened her mouth to ask and Orla said “I’ll do you one better, how do you feel about some warm milk? Or hot cocoa?”

 

Dan nodded sleepily and Orla wondered if she knew what was going on. She opened the cabinet that had all the non-tea drink making items, she pushed past some tequila and vodka bottles to find the powdered hot chocolate. She pulled out the milk from the fridge and pulled a mug from a cabinet, then another, she wouldn’t have minded some hot chocolate herself.

 

She poured the hot chocolate powder into the milk before putting it in the microwave. The loud beeps from the device seemed to wake Danielle up a bit.

 

“How’d you know that I-,” She yawned “sorry, that I wanted a drink?”

 

“I’m a psychic,” Orla smiled

 

Dan laughed and Orla felt a little bit of her admiration slip away, it wasn’t like she expected Dan to believe it, but Orla had hoped, just a little bit, that she might have.

 

“Allison would kill me if I didn’t ask for a reading, or something else that would showcase your magical powers of sight,” And the admiration was back. Tenfold. Orla fought to keep a smile from breaking onto her face.

 

“Alright then, I’ll read your tea leaves,” Orla said.

 

“But we aren’t making any tea,”

 

“And thank god for that, I’d never subject you to the tea in this house, no, I’ll read your hot cocoa powder, when you’re done drinking it.,”

 

“Oh, okay, thank you,” Dan yawned the word okay so it sounded like “ooooohhhkay”

 

The microwave beeped and Orla moved to get the mugs from the microwave. She handed Dan her mug.

 

“So how does this work exactly? I just drink the hot chocolate and you read whatever’s left over?”

 

“That’s the idea, though we should probably do this in the reading room,” Orla said, gesturing to the adjacent room

 

Dan nodded and shuffled her way to the cat room, she plopped herself on the cream-colored loveseat in front of the table. Orla sat down on the burgundy armchair across from her. They drank their hot chocolate in silence.

 

“Okay!” Orla said “Let’s start,”

 

////////////

 

The next day, Kevin woke up to a knocking sound. Each knock at the door sent a pounding pulse through his massively-hungover head. Fucking Nicky. He grabbed his pillow and threw it in the general direction of the noise. 

 

“Well that wasn’t very nice,” that wasn’t Nicky. Or Andrew. Or Neil. Or Aaron. 

 

Kevin bolted to his feet, expecting a fight. What he had not been expecting was a tall, elegant korean boy, hair slicked back, makeup applied, and bloody mary in hand knocking at the door. 

 

“All I wanted was to give you a little crutch for your undoubtedly large hangover, or breakfast, whatever you prefer, it’s not like I care, but Koh’s probably going to withhold sex for a month, and I can’t deal with that kind of ass deprivation, know what I’m saying? Not that I wouldn’t, like, totally love his company without the sex, but it’s nice, you know what I’m saying?” Kevin, in fact, did know what he was saying. Thea had never really withheld sex, but if she had Kevin would have loved her just as much. Besides, he didn’t need sex, he had exy.

 

The boy,  _ Henry Broadway _ , Kevin remembered him saying, _ but everyone calls me Cheng 2, not that I care, but you might. _

 

If Kevin remembered correctly, this boy had a propensity for repeating the phrases “know what I’m saying?” and “not that I care” and had both Koh (the overly bro-ey one who had challenged him to a drinking competition and lost), and Sick Steve (The one that reminded Kevin a little bit of a lost puppy) head over heels in love with him, not that he cared. Wait, not caring. A hundred plays popped into his head, if some players feinted, acted as if they didn’t care for the ball, then they could get to the edges of their zones, out of the other player’s reach, and then-

 

“Dude, get up, Ryang’s making pancakes,”

 

Kevin got up, and between brushing his teeth and sitting down at the breakfast table, created about thirty new exy plays with the theme “not that I care”.

 

He was just coming up with play number thirty one when Wymack came down the hall and sat by him. A small woman came up to him and poked his arm with a broom, Wymack was not amused. Kevin sent him a smile and started detailing play number 15.

 

“- and then, the defensive dealer, with enough room and arm strength, could hurl the ball halfway across court to the striker,” Kevin finished triumphantly.

 

“Now, that could be great, but the opposing backliner still poses a threat,” Wymack pointed out.

 

“Not if our mark is fast enough. And luckily for us, our mark is fast enough,” Kevin countered.

 

“Well, this would have been great, except you’ve completely forgotten about the second defensive dealer,” added a new voice. Kevin turned to see who had interjected, it was the short, stocky one who liked cosmopolitans. Lee Squared. “You were accounting for the other team having a second defensive dealer, right?”

 

“That’s what the second striker is for,” Kevin answered

 

“Ah, right,” Lee Squared said, and went back to making a political map of Virginia out of silverware.

 

Kevin and Wymack continued going over the flaws in his plan while the rest of the members of the house came to sit with them, occasionally butting in with suggestions. They were just on the verge of  breakthrough when Ryang slammed a plate of pancakes on the table.

 

Kevin felt himself flinch back, but if anyone besides Wymack noticed, they didn’t say anything, instead, they were all enraptured by Ryan Yang and his mile-high stack of pancakes.

 

“I’ve got it!” He said “We secede!” 

 

“Secede? Secede from what?” Kevin asked

 

Ryang looked at him with a devilish glint in his eye “the nation,”

 

This caused riot down the table. Both the Henrys slammed their hands on the table.Though it seemed for different reasons. One did it out of pure genuine, amused shock, and one did it to snap Sick Steve out of whatever he was thinking.

 

“Oh come off it!”

 

“Dude, it'll never work,”

 

“No, it might,”

 

“Give one good example,”

 

And such calls came from everyone, Kevin thought they were going to break off into orderly political chaos (because these boys wouldn’t do anything if they couldn’t do it orderly or politically) until Henry Cheng raised a hand to silence them, at which they all quickly quieted.

 

Henry asked “On what basis should we secede?” with a curious smile on his face. Faces around the table grinned, as if morning debates were the highlight of their day.

 

Ryang, happy to oblige, grabbed a pitcher of orange juice and held it like a weapon before filling everyone’s glasses. “The current leadership of the country, for lack of better terms, sucks ass, and people who don’t want to put up with it should leave the country,” 

 

Several of the boys perked up and Henry, as impromptu orchestrator said “Koh, Lee Squared, defense of Ryang’s policy, Ryang is leader,” Henry shot Kevin a devilish smile. “Sick Steve, MayDay, that’s you Kevin, flaws of Ryang’s policy, Cheng 2 is leader, I will mediate. Cheng 2, basis?”

 

“Seceding from the nation will cause more harm than good, and the resulting chaos will outweigh the benefits that seceding may bring,”

 

“Concession points,”

 

“Um, yeah, we concede the point that the country’s leadership sucks ass, but maintain that there are easier ways to deal with it besides leaving the fucking nation,”

 

“Ryang,”

 

“Okay, um we concede that leaving the country will cause fucking havoc, but maintain that, at this point, secession is the best way to go,”

 

Kevin had no idea how he got roped into this, debating leaving the country over whole-wheat, fairtrade blueberry pancakes (he had been assured profusely that there was no cruelty involved in picking and feeding the workers who picked the berries in between examples). But he liked it, he really, genuinely enjoyed the conversation, he caught his father looking at him from across the table and smiled at him, Wymack grinned back.

 

After breakfast, they moved the conversation to Ryang’s bright yellow bedroom, and continued there for a few hours.

 

He hadn’t even realized that they had all piled into the rented minivan and started driving until they were getting out of the car, he walked by Henry and the boys, Wymack trailing behind.

 

“Okay, Sick Steve was saying as they walked to an old-looking building. “But borders though, there are liberal and conservative members in each state, how are you going to get it all separated so that one physical part of the country wants to secede, and the other doesn’t, that’s forcing people out of their homes and surroundings,”

 

“Yeah, but it’s been done before, the separation India and Pakistan?” Lee squared interjected.

 

“Woah there,” Kevin interjected “You really want to use the forced exodus of the followers of Islam as an example? Because I’m pretty sure that that’s what we’re all against here,”

 

“Oh, wait, shit, you’re absolutely right, let the point fall Henry, drop it into hell,”

 

Henry nodded sagely. “The point has fallen,”

 

“Right, so borders?” Sick Steve reiterated while they reached the doors.

 

Kevin stopped. Henry bumped into his back. And looked like he was about to say something, but then got a better read of Kevin’s face and seemed to have reconsidered. He motioned for the rest of the group to quiet down. Kevin looked up at the door frame and placed a single hand on the door handle.

 

“Should we leave you two alone?” said a voice from behind the group. Every head turned to see who it was, a girl that Kevin had never seen before, she wore jeans with so many patches, Kevin didn’t think they could be considered jeans anymore, and a flowy black-and-white top like something Allison would wear, but with the strangeness level jammed up to 100%. Her hair flowed free in choppy waves, the smile on her face didn’t match her crass words. Her height, and the fact that Gansey, Neil, Andrew, and Dan followed closely behind her, signalled to Kevin that she was the waitress from the diner last night, Blue.

 

Kevin could feel himself going red. He opened the doors (while mentally apologizing for not giving them their due respect) and got it over with.

 

The court was beautiful.

 

Kevin, in his time in both places, had gotten used to Exy courts with bright, bold colors. Raven black, Fox orange, Trojan red. The aglionby court was neither bright nor bold. A muted navy blue surrounded them, wooden accents lined the bleachers, ceilings, and scoreboard. The plexiglass was tinted a cloudy blue, light enough to give a clear view of the players, but solid enough to give the sense of looking through a lake or a river at the court. The paned glass skylight took up almost the whole ceiling and sunlight streamed in in uneven beams. Even as Kevin breathed in the familiar smell of rubber, sweat, and wood, he got a sense that this place was  _ fuller  _ than the other courts, not with people, but with spirit. This court was something  _ other _ , and Kevin didn’t think he had seen anything more beautiful in his life.

 

Neil seemed to have a similar view of the stadium judging by his sharp intake of breath when walking in.

 

Dan sighed, and moved to push them towards the bleachers, when a figure showed up at the door, then another, running at full speed and panting like a dog. Two boys, both in formal wear, though they looked quite disheveled from running to the court. Kevin wondered what they were doing here.

 

“Ha! Beat you!” said the blonde haired boy, straightening his tie and shooting the other boy a grin. Despite never having met him before,  Kevin had the inexplicable urge to ruffle his hair and congratulate him.

 

The other boy ruffled his hair and congratulated him. Kevin realized it was Ronan Lynch, the smile on his face and the formal attire had thrown him off. It struck Kevin that he didn’t really know these kids. They had the same sense of  _ otherness _ that the gym had. The sense that they were something else, something more. Henry’s head snapped to look at him. A second later, Kevin felt a buzzing around his ears. He raised his hand to swat at the insect, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

 

“Hi!” said the blonde haired boy. “I’m Matthew!”.

 

“That’s adorable,” he hears Dan whisper to coach, Matthew sent her an extra smile.

 

“Alright Foxes, go change,” 

 

The foxes picked up their duffels and headed to the locker rooms. Kevin changed as quickly as he could, grabbed his racquet, and walked back to the others with Neil and Andrew.

 

“Alright, so what position do you play?” Wymack asked Blue on their way to the bleachers She had arrived carrying a duffel bag, and with much insistence on their part, she had given it to Gansey and Henry. 

 

“Um, it depends. Mountain view’s got a small team, see? So I had to play a lot of positions. But mostly goalie. I’m good at goalie,”

 

Kevin and Dan’s eyes met behind Wymack’s back. They didn’t need another goalie, they already had two, which meant the girl had to be amazing at her other positions.

 

“What are the others?”

 

“Striker and backliner,”

 

That surprised Kevin. She not only played three radically different positions, but she had the confidence to ask for a place on an NCAA ranked team.

 

“Do you have a stat sheet? Well, stat sheets?” Kevin asked, she nodded and pulled three stat sheets out of her bag. Kevin took a look. 

 

Her individual stat sheets were decent at worst. If she had been playing a single position, Kevin wouldn’t have chosen her on account of the fact that her stats weren’t what their team was looking for. But together, these sheets told the story of a hardworking and talented player that their team would be lucky to have. If he could focus all that talent into one position...

 

“You worked a job and managed to keep up these stats?” Neil asked when he saw the sheets.

 

“Uh, a few jobs actually. I walk dogs, and a few other things besides working at Nino’s,” Blue said.

 

Dan had a proud smile on her face, no doubt recalling when she had done the same. Though her own jobs were of a different nature, Dan seemed to appreciate the work it took to balance school, exy, and a job.

 

Kevin said nothing, only nodded.

 

“Right, so Blue and Dan, get changed?”

 

Dan looped an arm through Blue’s and dragged her off.

 

There was silence as they left and the boys used it to make their way to the bleachers.

 

Two last figures made their way to the doors, one tall and formally dressed, Declan, and the other looking twice as powerful as the former. Adam Parrish strode down towards the bleachers and no one said a thing. They were all too afraid to break the spell.

 

Kevin recognized something in the way Adam stood, the quiet triumph of the broken-then-mended. He recognized it in himself. Kevin decided that he liked Adam Parrish.

 

“So I missed Blue then?” Adam asked, with no regard for the spell he had unknowingly cast. Ronan, first to recover, said 

 

“Yeah, she just went in to change,”   
  


“I’ll see her when it’s over then,” Adam said.

 

“Not when she’s done changing?” Neil asked.

 

“Nah,” Adam replied “No use, she kind of gets hard to talk to before she goes on court,”

 

“I think she almost glared my head off at the game I went to!” Koh added, not unhelpfully.

 

“Oh!” Adam said, as if he had just noticed Henry and the Vancouver crowd were there. “Hey, y’all, what’s the issue today,”   
  


“We’re A. trying to see if  plaster has harmful qualities to children,” Ryang started.

 

“B.Trying to expand the borders of France,” Sick Steve added, emphasizing the word  _ borders _ like he was still bitter about his point being ignored.

 

“C. Trying to decide whether paternity leave is positive or not,” yawned Cheng 2, obviously tired but being careful not to smudge his red lipstick.

 

“Or D. Trying to secede from the nation,” finished Koh, getting to the truthful point .

 

Adam thought it over. “I’m going to go with C, since Cheng 2 has been strangely adamant about gender roles recently,” He moved to sit by Ronan and sidled up next to him

 

Cheng 2 made a buzzer noise and shook his head. “‘Fraid not,” he intoned “Alas, Ryang has decided that the only way to return to our former grace is to leave the country,” He explained the situation and the points that had been made. Kevin caught Neil and Andrew looking on in interest

 

Adam looked surprised. “Well that’s.. ambitious,” Ronan draped an arm around Adam’s shoulders. “You do realize you’re screwing over most of America’s lower class, right?”

 

Ryang jolted. “How so?”

 

Kevin watched as Neil raised a hand, Henry looked at him and gestured with a hand for him to make his point.

 

“Well besides all the document troubles, if people can’t afford to move, then they’ll stay where they are, bad leadership or not,” Neil said. “It’s easier to buckle down and deal with things for free than it is to risk all your money on a life you might not even do well in,”

 

Adam nodded. “Right, and housing, I assume you’re keeping the economic system about the same? Unless you’re rebelling against capitalism too,”

 

Lee squared nodded “Naturally,”

 

“Okay then, so housing, while still being a problem, is a manageable one,” Henry said, “Point refuted,”

 

“Objection,” Adam replied “You didn’t specify which economic system would be used,”

 

“That’s enough of that, I think,” called Blue from the direction of the locker rooms, she and Dan walked out from the direction of the locker rooms, helmets under arms, racquets in hand. “Let’s play,”

 

Kevin noticed that Henry and Gansey perked up when they heard her voice, he hoped this wouldn’t be a distraction, especially since Gansey would be coming with them.

 

Blue walked onto the court and placed her helmet on, Kevin recognized the calm stillness in her limbs, he had seen it multiple times before. It was the mark of someone who played like it was the only thing keeping them from sinking under.

 

“Okay, so for the first round, we’re testing you as a striker, try and make as many shots past Andrew as you can, don’t be afraid to use your teammates, Dan and Neil, you two will play against Kevin and Blue,” Coak said, calling out orders, Kevin strode out onto the court, he caught Dan and Neil bumping fists before walking on court. He said nothing to Blue, he didn’t need to. 

 

As the players got into position, a tense silence settled across the court. One. Two. Three. The whistle blew and the players exploded into motion. Dan immediately went for Blue, who had the ball, Dan went for a small, legal, but effective check that would have incapacitated Blue for a few moments if she had not feinted to the right and passed the ball to Kevin. Kevin had already sidestepped Neil in anticipation of it, he caught the ball and carried it the ten paces he was allowed. But Neil was fast, he, instead of racing up towards Kevin, had ran in between Blue and Kevin’s path, blocking any free throws. Blue had no choice but to move away from the goal and closer to Kevin, abandoning her advantageous position. Before she could get very far, Kevin charged Neil.

 

Neil, instead of moving out of the way, moved toward Kevin and collided with his chest in an unsuccessful attempt at getting Kevin to drop the ball. The ball, did in fact leave Kevin’s racquet, and in an enviable arc, flew straight into Blue’s. Blue caught the ball and slammed it towards Andrew.

 

The ball missed Andrew’s racquet. by a fraction of an inch. 

 

There was the whack of the ball hitting the plexiglass and then deafening silence.

 

“Okay,” coach said, ignoring the still atmosphere “that's one, let's see if you can-,”

 

“No,” Kevin said, “I've seen enough, we're signing her,” Or at least, that's what he tried to say, his mouthguard stopped the words from being coherent.

 

“What?” Coach called.

 

He removed his helmet and mouthguard and repeated his earlier statement.

 

“But you didn't even see-,” started Blue. 

 

“We don’t need to, you’ve got a full ride, but you’re playing as a striker, no ifs ands or buts about it,” Kevin finished.

 

“A full ride,”

 

“Yes,”

 

“To PSU?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“You know I’m worth it with only one practice game?”

 

“I knew it before the game,”   
  


“From the stats?”

 

Kevin simply said “No,” and walked off the court. If the girl was going to deny her talent, that was fine by him, but she could leave him out of it.

 

Henry rushed up to him, fingers interlaced with Gansey's, as soon as he had stepped through the plexiglass doors. He had not heard what had happened on the court.

 

“What happened? Is everyone okay? Did Blue not make it?” Henry asked, peppering Kevin with questions.

 

Kevin sent him a smile, “Ask her yourself,” .

 

Henry’s face burst out into a grin and turned around. Adam was the first to catch on, and he threw his hands in the air, triumphant. Ronan let out a loud, sharp, laugh, and Gansey whooped.

 

When Blue walked off court, she found herself covered in a mountain of extremely happy boys.

 

///////////

 

“Sure,”

 

“What? You didn’t even hear the best part yet!” Scarlet was sitting in the passenger seat of the mitsubishi, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.

 

“I’m in this if it means I’ll never have to go into this business again, then I’m all for it,” The Gray Man replied.

 

At that moment, three beeps came from Scarlet’s pager. 

 

“You should be proud of that girl Gray, she got in, ahead of schedule too,” two more beeps “And with a full ride too, goddamn, now that’s talent,” She popped open the glove compartment to find a pair of white sunglasses. She put them on. 

 

“Huh,” she said, “The tint’s off,”. She looked at herself in the side mirror and apparently found the image so ridiculous that she burst out laughing.

 

“Is that them?” The Gray Man said, pointing outside the window. A tall, dark boy walked next to a short, fair boy. The dark one was talking the light one’s ear off about something or the other, they were the only ones the parking lot. Luckily, Scarlet had a talent for closing car doors silently. She tailed the two boys closely from behind. Far enough not to be noticed, but close enough to hear their conversation.

 

“Right, yeah, but there’s a cheat on that level if you go through the third door on the right,” said Aaron Minyard gesturing with his hands. So nothing important then.

 

Scarlet walked up to them and tapped Nicky on the shoulder and put on her best perky adult face. “Hi!” She said, trying to keep her accent as non-New-York as possible “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but could you point me to the athlete’s dorms? My sister’s on the basketball team and I was supposed to meet her there, but I’ve been having trouble finding it?”

 

“Oh!” Said Nicky in the same tone. “We were just headed there now, would you like to join us?”

 

“That’d be great, thanks,” She replied. Aaron didn’t say anything, but sent her a small, fake, but polite smile.

 

“I’m Gina, by the way, Gina Carmichael, you might know my sister, Susie?” Scarlet babbled, trying to seem as vapid as possible.

 

“Yeah, Susie Carmichael on the basketball team, I think I’ve seen her around,” Nicky mused

 

“She’s in some of my classes, I think,” Aaron added.

 

Scarlet knew for a fact that there was no such person, but people would believe what they wanted to, and a believable lie was better than an unbelievable truth.

 

They made their way to a series of large buildings, chatting all the while. A rather large boy waited outside, Matthew Boyd. Scarlet sent him a smile. He didn’t send one back. Jiang had no doubt contacted him by now to warn him off. She set a mental note to send him his payment.

 

“The basketball dorms should be over that way,” Nicky pointed away at the other side of the building. 

 

“Okay then, thanks soooo much for your help boys,” Scarlet gushed, and when Aaron and Nicky turned their backs, she sent a wink a Matt. She turned around and walked away. She had almost gotten out of earshot when she heard Matt say

 

“So, who was that?”

 

Scarlet smiled to herself, everything was falling into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we get to find out what Orla said at the reading later


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided, rather than writing longer, three-part chapters like I have been doing, I would release each part on it's own. Now, while this creates shorter chapters, it allows me to release more content, more often.

Breaking into dorm rooms wasn't fun. Breaking into dorm room in a leather jacket, jeans, and high heels was even less fun. However, Scarlet had an aesthetic to maintain and she had made higher climbs in less-mobile clothes.

 

She counted herself lucky that the rooms had balconies. She held a small vial of a jewel-red syrup in one hand, and a balcony rail in the other. 

 

A pig flew by her head. She was climbing in broad daylight. Her red wedges has been replaced with powder blue pumps. Something was strange.

 

She suddenly became aware that she was not awake. If that was so…

 

She grabbed a pig and floated up the next few floors. She stood on the balcony and looked out into the parking lot. She was obviously not in her own dream, like she had planned, so who’s dream was it?

 

Oh. Right.

 

She turned around and found two boys, one leaning against the wall in a foreboding stance, and the other curiously watching her.

 

Two?

 

Okay. She could play this to her advantage.

 

“Well!” she exclaimed, accent in full force, hands thrown out to the side in a grand gesture. If she could not escape, she would intimidate. “If it ain’t my two favorite Matthews!”

 

This garnered different reactions from both of them. Matthew Lynch tilted his head in confusion. Scarlet resisted the urge to wrap him in a blanket and shield him from what she was going to do, not like he hadn’t lived through it. She looked at Matt Boyd, upon hearing his name, he had shifted into a defensive stance.  Ah well, you couldn’t expect them all to be amazed. 

 

“So um, do either of you know who’s mind we’re in?” asked Matthew.

 

“Well it’s not mine, so that answers that question,” Scarlet replied, happy to know more about the situation.

 

“What?” asked Matt, clearly confused. “I saw you earlier today, Nicky said you were looking for your sister. And I’ve never seen him in my life. How are you here?”

 

“We both know that ain’t true, Gina Carmichael doesn’t exist,”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re dreaming dude, we’re in your head,” Matthew explained helpfully.

 

“So I made you up?” asked Matt.

 

“No, man, like we’re actually in your head, we exist outside of here, but right now we’re in here for some reason, um, well, I mean, I’m not supposed to be here ‘cause I don’t know you, well, I mean, I know who you are, you’re Matt Boyd, my dad used to be a big fan of your mom’s. And oh! My brother is gonna join your team. But I don’t, like, know you personally? You seem cool though!” the last part was added on in a rush, as if he was afraid that anyone would think he didn’t like them.

 

“I know why I’m here,” started Scarlet, “And I know why you’re here,” She said pointing to Matt, “I don’t know why you’re here,” She said to Matthew “but I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that you’re a dream, because you actually have a remote role in all of this, and also because you share a name with this one,” She pointed to Matt again “Names are powerful things you know,”

 

“I still think this is all just a dream,” Matt said.

 

“Oh, you’re right about that, but we still exist out of here, speaking of existing out of here, I need you to take this,” Scarlet held up the vial and held it out to Matt. “Not ‘take it’ like drink it, I need you to keep it safe until you can give it to, um, heh, his brother actually, as soon as he gets there tomorrow,” she said, referring to Matthew.

 

“What?”

 

“Take the bottle first,” insisted Scarlet.

 

“Wait, if this in my head, then how can I give this to his brother?” Matt asked, taking the bottle into his hands gingerly as if it would explode if he moved it too much. 

 

“Is he like Ronan? Or Kavinsky?” Matthew asked.

 

“No, but the bottle wasn’t created in here, so the dream place won’t mind if he takes it out, and it’s not in my hands anymore, or touching me, so I can’t take it back now, but it has to go somewhere so it can only go into his hands,”

 

“That makes no sense,” said Matthew “Okay!”

 

“What do you mean ‘like Kavinsky’, how do you know Kavinsky?” Matt asked.

 

“How do you know Kavinsky?” asked Matthew.

 

They looked at each other in identical confusion, the resemblance was uncanny. Scarlet was struck with how much each one believed in the other’s innocence. She used to look at people like that. She giggled.

 

“You two should see your faces,” She said. “Now then, we gotta wake up, or, you gotta wake up,” She said to Matt.

 

“And how do I do that,” Matt asked, rather sardonically.

 

Scarlet raised an eyebrow and gestured to the edge of the balcony, they seemed higher than they were when Scarlet had arrived. Indeed, Scarlet could see a layer of clouds below them. “It’s kind of obvious, no?,” There was a pause. “You jump,”

 

“No way,” Matthew said, concerned. “He’ll die,”

 

“You or I might, but it’s his dream, and he isn’t a greywaren, and I’ve made sure that he won’t become a thief, there are way too many of those running around. The dream won’t hurt him,” She sounded sure, even to her own ears. 

 

Scarlet was, in fact, not sure of half the things that she had assured these boys, but she had made arrangements so that if anything proved to be untrue, then it would not affect the outcome of the plan. She just hoped she could avoid as many fatalities as she could on the way to peace. She had already lost too much. Too many. She would not let these families fall apart. She had grown quite fond of Matthew Boyd. It would be a shame if he died.

 

It hit like a cold wind what she was asking Matt to do, and it’s possible implications. Their moods dropped like stones. They all looked at the edge of the balcony where a bannister had appeared, like a warning for Matt not to jump. But he had to get them out of his head somehow.

 

“Okay, um, so, I’ll see you two around? I guess?” He said, moving towards the bannister. He slowly climbed to stand on top. He slowly breathed in and out. “You know, I’m not usually afraid of heights, but we’re really high up,” He chuckled and shook his head, trying to appear nonplussed. He looked back at Scarlet and Matthew. “I- I don’t think I can-,”. He stopped and took a small breath. He opened his mouth, and in a much smaller voice than before, almost a whisper, said “Do- do you think you could push me?”

 

Scarlet softened. “Of course, say no more,” she stopped. “Hey Matthew? Do you think you could go inside? It should be unlocked,” She wanted to give Matt some privacy. It was no small thing to fall back to earth from above the clouds without a parachute, and the least she could give him was his dignity as he did it. Matthew went inside.

 

His head popped out again “Oh! Um.. it was very nice to meet you Matt, and you, um…,” He trailed.

 

“If you never learn my name kid, that means I’ve done my job right,” Scarlet replied.

 

“Oh, um, okay then,”

 

“Nice to meet you kid,” Matt called with a small laugh. The laugh of someone who had a lot to lose.

 

Matthew popped his head back in and closed the door with a small click.

 

“I don’t like this,” Matt started. 

 

“Now you listen to me,” Scarlet said before he could say anything else, “it’s just a little fall,”

 

“It’s pretty big for just a little damn fall,” Matt interrupted.

 

“Yeah, you’ve got me there, but it isn’t real, no matter how real it seems. When you hit the bottom, no, just before you hit the bottom, before any damage has happened, you are going to jerk awake in your own bed, and you’re going to be in the real world, just fine, hopefully with that vial in your hands, and you’ll call your mom or your girlfriend or both, and you’ll tell them that you love thim, and you’re going to be okay, and safe, and warm, and happy,” She paused “Does that sound okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Matt wiped his hand near his eye “You should write Hallmark cards, maybe fortune cookies, if you’re feeling ambitious,”

 

“Ha ha tough guy,” a pause “You ready? You’ve got that vial”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“You give it to Ronan Lynch okay? As soon as you see him,”

 

_ Please. _ Scarlet thought.  _ Please don’t let me be pushing an innocent boy to his death _ .

 

She pushed Matt over. 

 

There were a few seconds of agonizing silence, she watched a pig fly by the unnaturally tall building. 

 

Then Scarlet woke up.

 

“Welcome back,” said Mr. Gray. “What was the point of that little nap?” The wording was crass, the tone was curious.

 

Scarlet’s eyes flew down to her hand. The vial was gone. It worked, or at least, part of it.

 

“The point, Mr. Gray,” Said Scarlet, looking out the passenger side of the mitsubishi window “is that phase 1 has been completed,”

 

////////////

 

Matt Boyd jerked upright in his dorm room’s bed. His bones ached with phantom pain, he should have been in a lot more pain, judging by the fact that he had fallen over two hundred stories.

  
  


Aaron, also a light sleeper, woke up as well.

 

“Matt?” He groaned. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Oh, um, yeah,” Matt said. There was no normal way to say that he had just had two others poking around in his mind that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicion. “It was just.. A bad dream,”

 

“Then go back to sleep,” Aaron grumbled.

 

Matt felt a weight in his palm. The vial from the dream. Ruby red and real. It was real.

 

In reality, it had a strange sheen to it, almost pearlescent, colors that shouldn’t have existed. He had to keep it safe. He had to give it to Ronan Lynch, whoever that was, the strange golden boy’s brother.

 

He put the vial under his pillow, grabbed his phone and walked out, there was something he had to do.

 

He leaned on the wall outside the door and pressed in a familiar number.

  
“Hey, mom? Yeah, it’s me. Is it a bad time? No? Okay. You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading thus far and, as always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Next Time: The Raven Crew arrives


	6. Chapter 6

Nicky Hemmick was desperately hoping that these kids wouldn’t be as much trouble as the other new recruits. 

 

Currently, he was standing in the foxes’ parking lot by Andrew’s car, waiting for the new recruits and the returning foxes. They were cutting it pretty close by bringing them in only a few days before off-season. Nicky didn’t know how long it would take for the foxes to whip these guys into shape, but they’d better learn fast. 

 

He heard Matt let out a low whistle.

 

Nicky saw the bright orange car roll up and desperately prayed for kids that wouldn’t cause drama. He knew he was probably hoping in vain, this was the foxes after all, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope. Three very non-trouble making kids got out of the car. Nicky thanked the stars, there were only supposed to be three recruits.

 

One looked like he’d grow up to be the president. Square jawed, broad shouldered, and powerful. He smiled at something one of the others said and it looked like the sun. He reminded Nicky a little bit of an old high school crush of his, but more moneyed somehow. He still looked like something Nicky couldn’t have, but not because of the shadow of his parents breathing down his neck, but rather the feeling that he couldn’t afford this boy, no matter how hard he tried, and while it would certainly turn heads if he had this boy on his arm, no one expected him to.

 

Another looked like, well, like a vegan, so maybe Renee would have company. And Andrew for that matter. She was quite small, Nicky thought he could fit her in his pocket if he tried. But she also looked like she could rip open his throat if he even thought about it. She was wearing a top that looked like she had layered several circular pieces of fabric and sewed it into shape. It was either very avant-garde and chic, or very charming and rustic. Either way, it worked for her.

 

And the last one… oh, the last one looked like he needed a hug. He was cute, definitely cute, but Nicky’s parenting instincts got there before his attraction instincts did. He had the strange urge to swaddle him up in blankets and hand him a mug of hot chocolate. He didn’t know why, the boy didn’t look particularly nurture-inspiring, but something in his eyes reminded him of what Aaron had looked like when Tilda died. The residual hopelessness of someone that had never truly been raised. The foxes would get that out of him real quick.

 

Then the last one stepped out of the car and Nicky’s hopes and dreams were shattered.

 

The boy was long, lean and angular, black, white, and red all over. Black clothes, white skin and red red  _ red _ lips. A cloud of dark fuzz grew out of his shaved scalp and Nicky caught glimpses of red as he moved, on the palms of his hands, the apples of his cheeks. The sun caught in long, flat shapes along the length of his exposed skin. He caught sight of the others and a lightning-flash smile (not a grin, not a smirk, but a smile) appeared on his face and then left as if it had never been there. And,  _ oh god _ , that  _ smile _ . The boy was something dark and mysterious, or rather, the shadow under it. The boy raised a hand and ran a hand back along his scalp back to his spine in an unconscious motion and muscles rippled under his  skin and if _ Nicky wasn’t engaged… _

 

But then the boy caught sight of Nicky and sent him a sneer. Razor sharp and terrifying, Nicky thought the lips would cut themselves off of his face. Everything about him screamed trouble.

 

“He _ llo _ ,” Said Nicky

 

“Hello!” Said the president, shaking Nicky out of his stupor.

 

“Oh! Um, hello!” He replied.

 

“You already said that,” Said the sharp boy. “This where we put our stuff?” he asked Matt, who had been leaning against the back of the truck. 

 

“And he has an accent, take me now,” Nicky said to Matt with a melodramatic swoon and a wink at the dark boy.

 

Matt smiled. His hand moved to his pocket to get his keys to the building and instead came out with something red. He quickly placed it back in his pocket and retrieved the keys.

 

“Well he’s certainly chatty, ain’t he,” whispered the girl to the teddy-bear boy, who chuckled and gave her shoulder a light shove. Nicky wasn’t sure whether she was talking about Matt or himself, either would constitute as a joke.

 

The rental van rolled up a few minutes later.

 

Andrew, Neil, Kevin, Dan, and Coach all had gotten out of the car. Dan launched herself into Matt’s arms as if they hadn’t seen each other in decades, and Matt, despite his large stature, fell back into the door of the truck.

 

“Oh! Are you okay?” Said the president.

 

“Oh, he’s a big boy,” Said Dan, pulling Matt up off his truck and slipping her hands into his back pockets to pull him closer. “I think he can handle it,”

 

“Keep it in your pants until we get to the dorm Wilds, it’s right there,” Said coach, unloading bags from the back of the rental car. “I’m going to return the car, so anything you’ve got stashed in there, go get that,” He added.

 

Andrew went in and returned with a large bag of gummy worms.

 

“Oh, could I-,” started the small girl.

 

Andrew rifled through the bag and handed her the smallest cherry-lemon one he could find. Nicky knew from prior experience that Andrew liked the cherry-lemon ones the least, but the girl didn’t seem to mind.

 

“Kevin, you coming?” asked Coach, and Kevin seemed to decide that he could wait a little longer to see the rest of the foxes.

 

While Kevin got in the car, Nicky’s eyes found their way back to the dark boy. The boy seemed stronger, surer now that people he knew were surrounding him, he leaned down and whispered something into the dusty boy’s ear. The dusty boy giggled and a dainty, freckled hand came up to cover his mouth. Oh.  _ Oh. _

 

“Oh, why are the hot ones always taken?” Nicky lamented out loud. The dark boy looked up, startled, and moved slightly away from the dust boy, not enough to disprove Nicky’s accusation, but enough to give Nicky an appraising look. 

 

If Nicky were three shades lighter, he would have been blushing.

 

“So, um, introductions,” Said Matt, who had not yet completely untangled himself from Dan, and didn’t really seem to want to. “I’m Matt, Matt Boyd,” 

 

“And I’m Nicky Hemmick,” Nicky added in proudly. “But you can call me.. Anytime,” he directed this at the dark boy, who looked a bit startled, but rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m Adam Parrish,” said the teddy-bear boy.

 

“Blue. Sargent. Blue Sargent,” said the girl, she smiled.

 

“This is Ronan Lynch,” said the president, gesturing at the dark boy. “And I’m Gansey, just Gansey,”

 

“Alright then Just Gansey, let’s get moving,” Nicky said. Gansey smiled at the joke like he thought it was funny, even though Nicky knew he had probably heard it a hundred times. Manners, that was a new one. Northern congeniality, Nicky supposed.

 

“Um, I don’t know about all of you, but I’m starving, so I’m going to see if the campus cafe is open for the pre season athletes, Andrew?”

 

Andrew said nothing, a silent soldier, he stood militantly by Neil’s side and nodded. Neil looked at him, an unspoken question in his eyes, and Andrew nodded again. Neil intertwined his fingers through Andrew’s. They made their way off, carrying their bags with them.

 

They picked up their bags and made their way to the building.

 

///////////

 

Allison was not surprised when the boy with dust for skin walked through the door, nor when a girl with an eccentric, but adorable top walked in, not even when Ronan Lynch made an entrance. She was surprised, however, when Richard Campbell Gansey walked in wearing the worst possible outfit she could have possibly imagined.

 

“Dick?” she asked.

 

Gansey flinched, but Ronan smiled.

 

Gansey looked at her and Allison understood. He was trying to camouflage himself into their motley crew. Trying to stay with the group he had formed. Allison could tell how much he needed them by the way he gripped

 

“Hello, Allison,” said Gansey, and it sounded like he was holding back a groan.

 

“Wow, I don’t know whether to bow or ask for an autograph,” She stalled, trying to get them to divulge their reasoning of entry

 

“I would hope neither,” Gansey replied.

 

“Huh,” Allison said. 

 

“I’m guessing y’all know each other,” said the girl.

 

“Ah yes, the days of my childhood, rich people parties, these two, and lots of shrimp. I miss the shrimp more than I’ve missed them,” Allison mused.

 

“Understandable, I’m Blue Sargent, your new striker sub,”

 

“Hi, Allison Reynolds, pleasure to meet you and your nice top. Did you make that yourself? You’re really very good at that.”

 

“Pshaw, it’s nothing,” The girl seemed humble, but pleased. Good, Allison adored genuine humility.

 

“And you?” Allison said, flashing the cute boy a smile and trying to scope out if he was single because  _ hot damn _ .

 

“Uh, Adam Parrish,” he said.

 

“Charmed, I’m sure,” she teased, extending a hand as if for him to kiss. He looked at it and gave it a very awkward shake.  _ All right, I get it, you’re not interested. _ Her ego was a bit bruised but no harm done otherwise, at least he wasn’t rude about it.

 

Nicky and Matt came in, holding some bags.

 

“Let’s show you guys to your rooms,” said Matt

 

They made their way down the hall and Allison caught Ronan’s hand slipping around Adam’s waist. So she wasn’t losing her touch. 

 

Allison smiled and went back to her homework.

 

///////////

 

Matt locked himself in his dorm at his first chance. So that was Ronan Lynch. He was so different from his brother that Matt almost thought that it couldn’t be possible, but if he tried he could see the resemblance. Everything that Ronan Lynch had was a more intense version of Matthew. The lightning-blue eyes, the prince-like nose, the distrusting scowl. 

 

Matt had seen him before, at a party or on the road or something. That could be the only explanation for the sick feeling in his stomach. 

 

The feeling reminded him of Jiang’s warning a few days ago.  _ Make him as un-fucking-comfortable as possible, he deserves it. _

 

He pulled the vial out of the pocket and tried to remember the dream woman who gave it to him, all that came to him were flashes of red leather and dark skin. Matt was still unsure whether or not she was real. The vial was real, and so was the memory of the woman’s voice. She’d had an accent.  _ Long dark hair, always somehow wearing red lipstick, new york accent, she’s coming too, steer clear. _

 

Matt put the vial under his pillow, it wasn’t for forever, he reasoned, just until it proved important. Ronan Lynch could wait a few days.

 

Matt took a deep breath and walked out.

 

“Hey, so who wants booze?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Next time: The fancy welcome-to-college party


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of alcohol, self-harm, and sex, though nothing but the alcohol is depicted
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, but there's been a lot going on with my family and work. The next few updates won't take as long, promise.

The party had powered through five bottles of tequila, two bottles of vodka, one bottle of gin, seventy-something beers, and about thirty bottles of Hennessy. To be fair, there had been some other people there, other new recruits. The only one Ronan remembered was Jack, but that was only because he had tried to start a fight.

 

As Ronan stood on the balcony outside, looking down at the unimpressive but vast parking lot, he tried to pinpoint when the night had gone sour, because it had, music still blared, but the speakers’ hearts weren’t in it.

 

The cheerleaders had passed through like feathers on the wind. There were none of them left. Some of the other athletic teams passed through as well. Football, basketball, track, lacrosse, swimming, volleyball.

 

“Hey,” said a voice from behind him. Matt Boyd. “Could you at least tell me what I said?”

 

///////////

 

“Hey, so who wants booze?” Matt asked, walking out of his dorm.

 

“Hell, someone needs to have the pre-season party, let’s get the vixens in on on this,” Nicky suggested.

 

So the night was off to a great start. Once Neil and Andrew got back, Nicky made a few calls, talking a mile a minute and smiling as wide as humanly possible.

 

“Katelyn, babe, we’re breaking out the booze, get the vixens over at six, Matt’s dorm, maybe the girls’ too if we can but we’d have to ask Allison,”

 

“Go for it,” called Allison from another room. She and Blue had made fast friends, much to Gansey’s chagrin. There was no way to get to Blue without going through Allison too, and Ronan would have had fun watching him attempt it had he not been furious with Gansey. Adam was perched on the arm of the sofa watching Gansey without any previous inhibitions.

 

Gansey had finally picked up the courage to walk into the room where Blue when Ronan felt a pressure on his shoulder and turned to find Adam, looking away with a mock-innocent look on his face, fighting a smile before giving in. Adam’s hand was gone as quickly as it came, but the smile remained. Adam pointedly avoided looking at Ronan. Ronan rolled his eyes and tapped Adam’s shoulder. Adam’s smile grew but he still did not look at Ronan. Ronan did it again, this time Adam looked at him, but he quickly looked away. Ronan felt a smile spreading across his own face at Adam’s childishness. Ronan tapped Adam’s shoulder a third time and leaned in when Adam turned to look at him. Adam leaned in until Ronan closed his eyes, and then leaned back again, giggling when Ronan opened his eyes.

 

“Well if you’re going to be an ass about it-,” Ronan stopped when Nicky entered the room.

 

“Okay, so you guys are unpacked right?” asked Nicky. “Good, you’ve got about two hours to yourselves before you get mobbed, hide your valuables and change into something hot if you’re looking to get laid,” He said, his voice echoing as he walked to his dorm room.

 

Without saying anything, Allison and Blue flew out of the room, Gansey unsurely trailing after them, obviously not familiar with party preparations.

 

A voice by Ronan’s ear said “Hey,”

 

Ronan jumped. Adam had leaned down by his ear.

 

“JesusMary _ Joseph _ Parrish, try and be a bit more creepy next time, why don’t you,”

 

“Sorry, but I’m not exactly sure about something Nicky said, am I looking to get laid?”

 

Ronan felt himself blush. He had to remind himself few times that yes, this is real, yes this is Adam Parrish, yes, you are awake. Fuck. Ronan forced himself to be cool.

 

“Not at the party, not after that fucking dick move, but how much time did Nicky say we had?”

 

“Two hours I think?”

 

“Yeah, you might get lucky before the party, now let’s hide all our shit,” Ronan said, springing up from the sofa and practically running to the dorm room.

 

When they arrived at the room that he, Adam, Gansey, and some other freshman that Ronan had yet to meet shared. Gansey had just “finished”. Which meant he had stuffed most of his things hastily in the closet.

 

“Uh, Ronan! Adam! I’ll be out of your moment in a wa- er, out of your way in a moment,” Said Gansey, scrambling to get a book out of his suitcase and flying out of the room.

 

Ronan didn’t say anything, just watched Gansey leave. Adam wasn’t as cold, and gave Gansey a fist bump as he left.

 

Ronan and Adam stood in silence for a moment before realizing what they were both there for. Each of them lifted up his mattress and put his books (Adam), clothes (Ronan), and racquet (Both) under it, spreading them out in an even layer as to not cause disturbance in the mattress. 

 

Ronan looked over “Dude, who’s stolen your fucking books?”

 

Adam did the same “You’d be surprised, who’s stolen your clothes?”

 

A slow, wide grin spread across Ronan’s face “Use your imagination,”

 

“Now I don’t want to know,”

 

Ronan turned back to flip his mattress back down, Adam did the same.

 

“Okay,” Ronan said, “So I’m about done here, did a good fucking job if I do say so myself. What about yo-,” 

 

Adam kissed Ronan. Hard. It was a little bit awkward at first because of the teeth and the noses and the general sudden-ness of the kiss, but then Ronan tilted his head a little and there we fucking go. This kiss felt like a long pull of whiskey, it was like falling into the ocean, it was all-encompassing, it was something warm enveloping him and Ronan not wanting to come up for air. 

 

Adam pulled back anyway because he was not so fine with suffocation as Ronan was. Moving swiftly, he pushed Ronan up against the wall.

 

Ronan smiled, something told him that this was going to be a good night.

 

///////////

 

As entertaining as the foxes were sober, Ronan found them infinitely more entertaining when they were drunk. Kevin had taken to standing on a couch and discussing Exy plays with thin air. The people who cared to listen would have heard that they were kind of fucking genius, but no one really cared to listen.

 

Ronan found that the only way to distinguish between the two Minyard twins was that Aaron was the one with the red solo cup. Andrew did not drink.

 

Matt and Allison were hanging off the walls, covering 80’s rock songs. If Ronan was being honest, the weren’t half bad.

 

“Shot through the heart!” Allison had shouted as him when he walked by.

 

As he stood by the drinks table, Dan came up and stood next to him.

 

“Having trouble?” She asked, referring to the wide selection of alcohol. There was a lot of beer, a box of white wine, tequila, vodka, whiskey, gin, someone had put a bottle of rubbing alcohol up as a joke, and the crowning jewel, a disproportionate amount of Hennessy cognac.

 

“There’s a lot to choose from, I’m leaning towards the rubbing alcohol, unless you can find anything more appealing, any recommendations?”

 

“Well, I’ve always been a Hennessy kind of girl myself,” Dan said, smiling like Ronan was in on the joke. “and courtesy of some extremely investigative Ravens fans, we got a whole crate full delivered to us earlier this week,” It took a moment for Ronan to realize that she meant the Edgar Allen ravens, not the Aglionby ones. There was an edge to the captain’s voice, like the liquor meant more to her than it should have.

 

“I think I’ll stick with beer, thanks” 

 

“Suit yourself,” She sauntered off, more lioness than person. Her feet tapped along the floor to the Matt-and-Allison rendition of “Living on a Prayer,”

 

Ronan scooped a dark green glass bottle and moved over to where the mostly-drunk foxes and a few football players were settling in. The football players scrambled off the couch when Ronan made it evident that they were where he wanted to sit. 

 

As the hours of the night passed by in a slow, begrudging kind of way, only moving because it had to. The night fell into a drunken haze as the non-exy players left the party.

 

“Truth or dare?” Allison asked.

 

“Truth or darrrre,” Nicky agreed.

 

And so they played truth or dare. It was severely underwhelming, but Ronan saw that each of the foxes had their own style of asking. Dan and Matt were big fans of dares but they really had nothing to ask for when their victim answered “truth”. Renee, on the other hand was particularly demure when it came to both. She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know everyone a little better, her dares left something to be desired, but she gained Ronan’s respect when she sentenced Allison to spend the rest of the night makeup-less. Nicky was bad at the game, he never knew what to ask and he took forever to come up with something. Allison was ruthless, she always knew where to dig so that what she asked was borderline mean but never went far enough to be problematic. 

 

At some point, the game just devolved into people skipping the “truth or dare” part and just asking other people questions.

 

“Heyyyy, Lynch, hey Lynch, Lynch, hey,” rambled a beady-eyed freshman. Jack. Ronan had deduced that he was an asshole. “Dare you to take off the wristbands,”

 

Ronan shot Jack a glare, not at full potency because of all the alcohol flooding his system, but begrudgingly removed the bands.

 

“Daaaamn, didn’t peg you for a cutter,” Jack jeered. Ronan resisted the urge to respectfully break Jack’s nose.   
  


“I’m not,” he said instead.

 

“Then where did those come from” Jack said, referring to the raised flesh.

 

“My sub-fucking-conscious, now leave me alone asshole,”

 

“My turn,” Allison said, sensing things were about to get ugly. She raised a long slender finger. “Who to choose, who to choose, one of the freshmen I think,” The upperclassmen breathed a sigh of relief. “Eenie, Meenie, Miney, you,” She pointed to Gansey. “Truth or dare,”

 

“Truth, because to be honest,” Gansey let out a stream of little snorts and chuckles, the kind that came from drinking more than you should have “I’m quite scared of you,” Gansey giggled. Gansey was very, very drunk.

 

“So, you disappeared of the face of the earth, why?”

 

Gansey burst out into a fit of giggles and said “Good question, very very good question, and the answer is,” Another fit of giggles “I died,” Gansey couldn’t contain his laughter at this point. He laughed and laughed and laughed and then grew very solemn. “and then someone brought me back, and then I went on a wild goose chase to find him,” He made a shape like a plane with his hand “wheee,” the whimsical gesture would have been funny if not for his dry tone. The plane plummeted and crashed, Gansey made a sort of pew noise. “Turns out I didn’t need to, but I also sorta did, because then I wouldn’t know Ronan, or Adam, or Blue, or Henry, or No… no one else,”

 

“How drunk are you, Gansey?” Allison teased.

 

“On a scale of one to ten? Twenty-four point Oh Oh Two,”

 

Ronan never liked when Gansey said “oh” instead of “zero” It seemed too mechanical. Too efficient. Declan said “oh”.

 

The foxes all shared a good, but tense laugh. They were amused, but they could sense that his time away was a sore subject for Gansey.

 

“Hey, soooo, um, you guys are from Virginia right?

 

“Adam gave a tentative “Yes?” from the corner

 

“ I have a few.. friends from the area who told me to ask you guys what happened to Kavinsky,” Matt blurted out. The air in the room tightened. Ronan felt it pushing down on him, squeezing his head until he thought it would explode from the pressure. Everything went sideways. Ronan felt like he was falling, until he blinked and saw that nothing had shifted.

 

Adam, Gansey, and Blue set nervous eyes on him, making everyone else look to see what was wrong. Matt looked like he had swallowed a boulder. Ronan felt something wet by his foot. He had dropped his beer bottle. He stood up and left the room.

 

“Well what happened to him?” He heard Dan as he left.

 

“Far too much,” he didn’t get to hear Gansey answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: the party's aftermath, angst and raging hangovers
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so the chapter ended up being a lot more filler than I planned, and it's kinda short, but I hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> mentions of suicide and alcohol

Matt walked out after Ronan, he had to figure out what he had done wrong, he had to figure out what had happened to Kavinsky.

 

“Could you at least tell me what I said?” Matt asked.

 

“Who told you, who fucking told you? Was it Skov, that asshole could never keep his mouth shut. Swan, the creepy fuck?” Matt didn’t know how Ronan knew these people, but it explained why he was so familiar, it did not, however, explain why he was so angry.

 

Ronan had turned around to face Matt, his hands were thrown up in the air. Matt was familiar with this type of anger. It was loud, it was explosive, people said things they regretted.

 

“Jiang, it was Jiang,” Matt felt entirely wrong about this conversation. Something about it didn’t sit well with him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The night had gone too fast, there was too much alcohol in him. In both of them

 

Ronan seemed to sense the same thing and his anger evaporated. He turned back to face the night sky and the empty parking lot.

 

“Bastard never did learn to leave the fuck alone. So do they all think it’s my fault then? They told you it was my fault? They all fucking think so,” Ronan didn’t -or couldn’t- look at him. Matt felt the strange need to comfort him

 

“Ronan, what happened, why are you so upset? What did you do?”

 

“Kavinsky is fucking dead, okay?”

 

“What? How?”

 

“He fucking killed himself, don’t ask me how,”

 

There was a silence.

 

Matt opened his mouth to say something and then closed it, because what did you say to that? Kavinsky had always seemed invincible to Matt. Untouchable.

 

Finally, after what seemed a very fast century, or a very slow second, Matt said “Why.. why would they think it was your fault?” 

 

“How much do you know? How much did they tell you? About Kavinsky? Did you know about the dreams?”

 

Flashes of memories hit Matt. Red vials and red lipstick, climbing onto this balcony and falling falling _ falling _ .

 

_ What dreams? _ Matt thought.

 

“What dreams?” Matt said

 

“Right, nothing,”

 

There was another silence. Matt looked out at the night sky too.

 

“How does a guy like you know Kavinsky?” Ronan asked, still not moving his eyes from the moon.

 

“Man, everyone knew Kavinsky, but mostly because he was my dad’s dealer, and later on he was mines, I hung out with him a few times, went to a few of his parties, back when I was young and rich and on top of the world,”

 

“Shit,” Said Ronan.

 

“Shit,” Matt agreed.

 

“Prokopenko’s in a coma,”

 

“Shit,” Said Matt.

 

“Shit,” Ronan agreed.

 

There was a silence, Matt started to feel his own anger building up.

 

“I, mean,” Matt started “How does a guy like that just die? How do you just do all those things, find all these people, friends, and customers, and clients, find all these rare things, drugs, and cars, and fireworks. Start all these traditions, make a name for yourself and just… give it all away?”

 

Ronan didn’t say anything.

 

They looked out onto the parking lot. At all the tiny little cars that didn’t care that a god had died.

 

It wasn’t a silence, and it wasn’t awkward, it was the melancholy companionship of knowing that someone you both knew was dead.

 

Kavinsky was dead.

 

“I'm going back in,”

 

////////

 

Adam woke up happy and glad that he didn’t drink. 

 

He had woken up to some sounds outside the thin walls of the dorm. It sounded like voices, probably stragglers from last night, the one night stands, the people who passed out in the hallway. Nevertheless, he stood up to check. 

 

It was, in fact Neil and Andrew.

 

“Alright, so quick stop at the supermarket and then we come back here and make food, then we hit the court for practice with Kevin?”

 

“Junkie,”

 

“You don't have to say that every time I mention Exy,”

 

“Who's going to remind you if I don't?”

 

“Yeah yeah. So, Kevin with a bloody mary, Dan likes tacos, Matt gets pickles and mayonnaise, blueberry muffins and fries for Allison, Nicky likes toast and eggs, Aaron wants the bloody mary mix and ice and… shit. What do the freshman eat for hangovers?”

 

Adam decided to make his presence known. “Gansey will take some of the eggs and some of the blueberry muffins, Blue likes burritos, just make sure there's no sour cream, or meat. Ronan was blessed with the ability to make a hangover disappear like that,” Adam snapped his fingers.

 

“Noted,” Neil said. 

 

They started their journey to the dorm elevator. Adam resigned himself to a few hours of trying to go back to sleep without being successful, when Neil turned around.

 

“Hey, do you want to come with? You could help us pick out ice cream, I don’t know what flavors you and your group like,” He and his group. Adam liked the sound of that.

 

“Um, sure, though I’m just warning you, Blue only eats yogurt,”

 

“But we’re getting ice cream,” Neil pointed out

 

“Trust me, we’re going to need yogurt,” 

 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Neil said bemusedly, he turned around and headed for the stairs, Andrew stayed turned a little longer and fixed Adam with a strange look. It was notable for not the emotion on it, but rather, the lack of emotion. It was very obviously a mask, but that was what made it such a good one, you were so distracted by the mask that you forgot to check what was under it. Adam sent Andrew a smile and continued on past him.

 

///////////

 

“Come and get it folks, hangover food galore, thank god we have no practice today,” Nicky shouted to the foxes, who were congregating in the girl’s dorm.

 

“Nicky, keep it down, I just got, like fifty headaches,” Allison said.

 

“Water and muffins Allison, water and muffins,” Dan said

 

Ronan looked at the scene with a smirk. Nicky had tried to keep his eyes off the tantalizing curve of those lips, but his eyes kept finding their way back. Ronan stretched, lazy and slow and all Saturday morning relaxation.

 

“God Lynch,” He found himself saying “Please tell me you aren’t straight,”

 

Ronan raised a thin, arched eyebrow at him. “I’m not straight,” Nicky was about to jump for joy “But, like you said yesterday, I’m taken,”

 

“I did say that, didn’t I,” Nicky floundered.

 

“Oh, Ronan, you just won me so much money,” Allison said from the couch, mouth full of fries.

 

“Come on, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind if you slacked off a little,” Nicky said, as suggestively as he possibly could.

 

“Oi, Parrish, would you mind if I-,”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Said Adam from the other room.

 

“Pay up Wilds,”

 

“Oh come on Allison, I have no cash,”

 

“Should have thought of that before betting against me,”

 

Nicky giggled. He was beginning to like the freshmen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The Grey Man and Scarlet get to the fun part of the plan, we finally learn what the red vial is, and Allison kicks an asshole where the sun don't shine
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: slight homophobic language and violence

 

The Gray Man did not like knives. Or, well, he liked them as much as anyone could like a deadly weapon/kitchen utensil, but as a method of murder, he preferred small, efficient, easy-to-conceal handguns. They were fast, they usually saved the party unlucky enough to be shot a lot of pain when he had good aim (and he had very good aim), and perhaps least importantly, they simply looked cooler.

 

But in a situation where no guns were to be found, knives were the next best thing. He had no idea why there were no guns to be found, seeing as he had put no less than three in his car. One under hise seat

 

He looked over to Scarlet, who was sitting in the passenger seat, arms behind her head, eyes closed, a soft, easy smile on her red-painted lips. The picture of relaxation. She was not asleep.

 

“Scarlet,”

 

“Yeah, Gray?” She asked, eyes still closed.

 

“Why are there no guns in my car?”

 

“Aesthetic,”

 

“Scarlet,”

 

“Fine fine, Mr. I-want-information. God, you should have gone into interrogation,” she stretched her hands out in the air, just managing to miss the roof of the car

 

“I did,”

 

“Oh yeah, right, but you remember where we’re going right? If we bring guns, they’re gonna see through that shit in two seconds,”

 

“If we hide them well-.”

 

“No, Gray, they’re literally going to _see through that shit_ , like with magic, they do not however, search for knives,”

 

“Well that seems an impractical use of magic,”

 

“Well if all their members use only knives, then it ain’t so impractical. Pull over, we’re almost there, we need to switch seats,”

 

The Gray Man pulled over.

 

Scarlet looked over and said “And you need to tie your hands again. Something complicated-looking but easy to get out of, none of them study their knots,”

 

She slid into the driver’s seat while the Gray Man “You’re familiar with the plan, yes? A if they’re hostile, B, if they’re happy to see me,”

 

“How did you know where to find the guns?”

 

“You’re predictable,”

 

They continued driving until they came across a large complex of office buildings. It was the middle of the night, so the abundance of cars were surprising, but it was a dream corporation. People here were trained to get what they wanted. Trained with absolute loyalty. Trained to kill. That was not a daytime operation.

 

Scarlet grabbed the Gray Man by the rope around his wrists and gave it a sharp tug. Her face had settled into something between cool indifference and gentle disdain. Her fight face.

 

She tugged him all the way to the front of the tallest building.

 

In front of the building was a glass booth with a panel covered in buttons. A pale man with dyed white hair stood inside, he wore white clothes. The only dark things about him were his dark brown eyebrows and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

 

“Nightingale! Long time no see! Finally back from the job I see, is this him?” said the tall, light man in a security guard’s outfit.

 

“Just get me an interrogation room ready, okay Snow?”

 

“Right-o,” ‘Snow’ pushed a button on his panel and Scarlet headed inside, pulling the Gray Man along with her. It was a large, ornate hall. Sparsely decorated, and full of people, but rich all the same. It was the kind of place you tried to be quiet in, but that didn’t stop Scarlet. Her heels clacked on the floor like a metronome. Along the hall, heads turned to smile at her.

 

“Nightingale!”

 

“You’re back,”

 

“Give us a tune sweetheart,”

 

The voices all seemed to know her, they came from darkened corners and shady back rooms. Some, the Gray Man had heard before, however, Scarlet promised that he wouldn’t be recognized. Then again, blind faith wasn’t something the Gray Man went on very often.

 

“Whiskers!” Scarlet said suddenly. A mousy woman with ratty brown hair and an impressively sized pair of front teeth skittered up to them.

 

“Y-yes agent N-N-Night-t-tingale,” she chattered in a high-pitched voice.

 

“If you’re not doing anything right now, take him to floor 3, room two. My stuff is still there?” She asked. When the girl nodded, Scarlet whispered “Plan A” into the Gray Man’s ear

 

They were hostile.

 

The Gray Man let himself be led down the hall and to the right. The floor sloped sharply upward. He tried to be wary of the girl, but it was hard to see her as a real threat when she kept making such careless mistakes. For one, she didn’t look back at the Gray Man once.

 

They had walked up what felt like two stories when Whiskers began to chuckle.

 

“S-so, p-p-prison-ner of war, eh?” Whiskers said, her grip on his arms tightened.

 

“I don’t know,” he remarked “Is this a war?”

 

“Oh, d-d-don’t play d-dumb,” She growled. “You know e-exact-tly why you’re here. Now, you’re g-going to sit d-d-down in the met-t-tal ch-chair, and you’re going t-to be q-q-quiet, and th-then, I’m g-g-g-going-g t-t-to k-kill her, and then you, loose ends and all,”

 

“Well, I’m not gagged, and my feet aren’t tied, I could run, or scream,” He pointed out.

 

She shot him an unimpressed look, removed a small knife from a sheath in her boot, and held it menacingly close to his neck.

 

“Okay,” he said “Well played,”. It wasn’t, not really, he could have escaped his bindings in the time it took her to reach down into her boot. He could have swept her legs out from under her right at that moment. But making her feel secure in her superiority was of the essence.

 

They came to a metal door. It had no handles, the only reason the Gray Man knew it was a door was because of the strange hinges.

 

Whiskers drew a complicated pattern on the door with her index finger. It flew inward as if it had been hit with a gust of wind. Magic.

 

Whiskers forced him into the room and slammed him into a chair. The Gray Man could sense that this girl really though she had the upper hand.

 

“St-st-stay,”

 

They waited in silence for a few more moments until they heard a telltale clicking on the floor. Scarlet.

 

There were three types of fights. Practice fights (playfighting, sparring matches, tournaments), Ghost fights (verbal fights, wars, fights with yourself), and there were real, honest-to-god, punches-to-the-gut, biting-and-scratching fights.

 

The Gray Man had alway hated the words “like watching a trainwreck in slow motion”, it was an ugly little phrase his father used to say that meant something bad that you could see coming. This being said, the Gray Man figured that there was a split second before every real fight that was just pure calm. The second that people decided to shed any pretense that they just wanted to be friends. The second that the situation registered. Mean words, or the first blow, or in his case, the moment when he folded his humanity up and put it away for a while. The second where time slowed down. It was like, well, like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

 

Scarlet came into view. A knife clattered to the floor, and Whiskers lunged.

 

The split second before Whiskers hit was pure calm. Time slowed. Nothing changed, well, nothing much. The Gray Man knew what the outcome of the fight could be when he saw the slightest movement.

 

When he saw Scarlet smirk.

 

The fight was a short, messy thing. Blood was drawn within two seconds and if Scarlet knew anything, it was how to egg people on to the point where they were more anger than control.

 

After a particularly sharp scratch, the Gray Man got up to help, but scarlet hissed.

 

“ _Sit_ _the fuck down_ , Gray,”

 

The Gray Man sat down.

 

She called out taunts in a different language between blows, _french_ , the Gray Man thought. He only knew a little, enough to get by, but from what the Gray Man could pick out, what Scarlet was saying was _filthy_. Whiskers was getting increasingly sloppy, but increasingly vicious, she grabbed Scarlet’s kneecap and pulled hard. Scarlet slid to the floor, her head thudding painfully against the floor. Whiskers took advantage of her momentary distraction and straddled Scarlet’s waist.

 

“This is why I lo-l-love hand t-to hand c-co-c-c-co-com-,” Scarlet had grabbed a fistful of Whiskers’s hair and tugged at it relentlessly,

 

“Combat?” Scarlet finished. Whiskers growled. Scarlet rolled so that Whiskers was on her back. “Ironically,” started Scarlet, avoiding a punch, “I learned that one in the bedroom,”.

 

Scarlet soon maneuvered her way into a standing position and shoved the mousy girl against the wall.

 

Her stance was off. Whiskers took advantage of the weakness (It seemed like she was quite good at doing that, and took the opportunity to flip the situation around, literally.

 

“So I g-g-get to k-kill you up c-c-c-close and per-person-nal? Whiskers hissed into Scarlet’s ear, hysterical and sweating.

 

“The thing about getting up close and personal is,” Scarlet started, before shooting a wink at the Gray Man. “You can’t see what the other person is doing with their hands,” It was then that the Gray Man saw the spot of blood spreading from the knife tip in Whisker’s back.

 

Scarlet pushed Whiskers back, Whiskers’s legs buckled.

 

“Next time, don’t drop your knife,” Scarlet said.

 

“Fu-fuck you,”

 

“Gray, let’s go,”

 

“Wha-what’s he g-g-going to do? He’s use-l-l-less.” Whiskers coughed, clutching her stomach.

 

“Nah, just obedient. And also, not tied up anymore,” Scarlet replied, gesturing to the Gray Man like she was presenting a showhorse.

 

It was true, the Gray Man had untied his bindings and was bundling the rope up.

 

“Good man, Gray. Come, the reinforcements will be here soon,” She removed a piece of paper that read ‘just in case’ in elegant, looping script.

 

“Their reinforcements or our reinforcements?” The Gray Man joked, tying the bundle of rope. Whiskers let out a moan of pain. Scarlet kicked the girl with the toe of her shoe.

 

“Shut up, and drop the rope Gray, we aren’t going to need it, now come on,”

 

“Why? What part of the plan are we at now?” The Gray Man asked, interested.

 

Scarlet grinned a wicked grin “The fun part,”

 

///////////

 

Allison Reynolds was pretty sure that someone was dancing to Madonna in the Downtown square. She could still be drunk off Henessy.

 

“ _I was beat, incomplete_ ,” chimed a voice from the speakers.

 

Allison really hoped that someone was dancing to Madonna in the square because one, it meant she wasn’t deliriously hung-over or somehow still drink on ridiculously expensive cognac, and two, if she recognized the hair (and, she _did_ recognize the hair) the figure was Henry Cheng.

 

She had never spoken to him, he always seemed too political, too make-a-difference, too improve-the-economy-save-the-planet-live-up-to-your-potential. He was always aiming to impress, to dazzle, Allison had always hated people like him. However, if she had known about _this_ , maybe her mind would have changed. _Probably not_.

 

“ _Like a vi-i-i-irgin, feel your heartbeat, next to mine_ ,”

 

Still, the boy could dance. Allison leaned against a lamppost with her shopping bags, a small crowd was forming around him and he reveled in the attention.

 

“Did- did he choreograph this?”

 

“How did he know this song would play,”

 

“Damn, just… damn,”

 

Allison smirked at the murmurs from the crowd, the abandoned shopping bags by the fountain told a different story. The boy had really just dropped his bags and started dancing. She caught sight of a guy edging towards him from the crowd. He did not look happy.

 

“Hey!” he barked at Henry.

 

Henry looked at him and shot him a glowing smile without skipping a beat. “Why hello, large, angry man, how large and angry you look today! I’d love to continue this talk but the song’s almost done, and I can’t disappoint the crowd, now can I?” he circled around the man “So, sorry, but could you wait a bit longer?”

 

The man stomped off, probably annoyed by the condescending politeness. Allison picked up her bag and walked off, she had other errands to run and she wasn’t particularly close to Henry Cheng.

 

He caught sight of her though, and sent her a wave and a smile, before launching into a complicated series of steps without looking to see if she would wave back.

 

Allison laughed and shook her head. _Rich boys._

 

It wasn’t until long after the song ended that it occurred to Allison that Henry Cheng shouldn’t have been there, he would just be starting college soon and Palmetto state wasn’t likely to be one of his choices. She wondered if she could catch him again, it was getting pretty late, he would probably have left.

 

No harm in trying.

 

She made her way back to the fountain, the crowd had long since dispersed. Henry, of course, wasn’t there. The sun was about to set so most of the shoppers had gone home. She started towards the parking lot, resigned that she wouldn’t be getting any answers today.

 

Something rustled in the corner of her eye. An abandoned shopping bag. Henry hadn’t picked them up after he finished dancing...

 

Something was wrong.

 

She heard something, a faint thump. She followed the sound to a back alley where a few men were circled around something- _someone_ , she realized. They were kicking him. The figure, Allison realized, was Henry Cheng.

 

“Hey, what the hell? Leave him alone!’ She shouted. A few of them saw her and ran away, desperate not to be caught. Only one remained. The angry man from earlier. “I said, leave him alone,”

 

“I heard what you said, lady, but someone needs to teach this fag a lesson,”

 

Allison made an understanding face. She walked up to the man slowly, keeping her face neutral and swiftly kicked her knee up between his legs. When he hunched over, she pushed him onto his side. He skidded into a wall in the fetal position.

 

He would get up in a few seconds, so she grabbed Henry, looped her arms around his, and fled the scene, dragging him along. He felt lighter than he should have felt. Allison hoped that wasn’t a bad thing. She ran for what seemed like hours and stopped once she got what felt like a safe distance away.

 

She heard a soft cough, or maybe a laugh from the figure on her shoulders. “Pretty lady, if I didn’t know any better, I would have said you were an angel,” Henry smiled. Allison didn’t know how someone as hurt as him could smile so brightly.

 

“Far from it,” she answered. “Come on, we’re near my car, I’ll get you to a doctor,”

 

“Ms. Reynolds, just take me to Richard Gansey and Blue Sargent, and I’ll be fine. Come now, you wouldn’t refuse a dying man his last wish, would you?” He wasn’t dying, Allison had gotten worse injuries from a bad game, but with the way in which he asked it, broken and trembling, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he was.

 

“Don’t be a drama queen, you’re not dying. Come on, let’s get you to the dorm then, our nurse, Abby Winfield, can make a house call,”

 

“You say you’re not an angel, maybe you’re a saint?” He joked.

 

“Wrong again,” Allison muttered “If you wanted someone holy, you should have talked to Renee,”. They didn’t say any more until they got to the dorms.

 

As they pulled into the dorm parking lot, Allison let out a sigh.

 

She couldn’t have one quiet year?

 

///////////

 

Ronan Lynch did not remember the first time he had brought something back from a dream. He thought, perhaps it was a flower, or a feather. Ronan did remember, however, the first dream thing he had ever gotten as a gift.

 

Declan had been bragging about his present all day, a top that never stopped spinning unless you forced it to, Ronan had been too young to know that this shouldn’t be the case, so nothing struck him as strange, but he listened intently to Declan anyway.

 

Ronan had admired his brother, at one point in time. He would never admit it, to himself or to anyone else, but he still did, just a little.

 

Ronan didn’t remember what Declan had said, but he did remember being mesmerized by the top, the colorful plastic moving without fail. He remembered reaching for it. He remembered Declan slapping his hand away. _It’s not yours Ronan, this one is mine._

 

_But I don’t have one!_

 

That was the moment that Ronan started to envy Declan, and he would never admit it, at least not out loud, but he still did, just a little.

 

Declan had not let him watch the top after that. So Ronan ran out into the fields, there was always something to do in the fields, he could not remember if he had been crying or not. He had always been a crier as a kid.

 

He didn’t know how long he had stayed out in that field, playing and pretending to be fine by himself, but knowing that he wasn’t. Ronan was a creature of company after all.

 

He had finally just lain down in the tall grass and looked up at the sky. It was picture perfect and blue, the kind that he drew pictures of, and his mother always put them on the fridge.

 

He felt someone lay down next to him. His father. They didn’t look at each other, but Ronan knew it was him, he could feel it. They were silent for what seemed like forever, then he felt his father shift.

 

“So, Declan’s being a bastard again, is he?” Says Niall.

 

“Ssssshhh, mom says you aren’t supposed to say that,” Ronan says back, a gap-toothed grin spreading across his face nevertheless.

 

“What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her,”

 

They were silent again. This time because Niall had fallen asleep, like father like son, so had Ronan.

 

When Ronan woke up, Niall had been sitting up in the grass. There were smudges of dirt on his cheeks, but there was no way of telling if he had gotten them before or after he fell asleep.

 

“Well my boy, time for your gift,”

 

Ronan had sat up, wide awake.

 

Niall had pushed a tiny red bottle into Ronan’s small hand. Ronan looked at it, crystal clear and red as a sunrise.

 

“Think of a rule you’d like to break, any rule, and then drink this. Then you can break it,” Niall winked “With no consequences,”.

 

Ronan remembered thinking that his gift had been nowhere as cool as Declan’s, a mere potion was not as good as a toy. How foolish he had been. Still, he kept it, because his father had given it to him, and Ronan would

 

Ronan had used the potion not a week later, to sneak a hot cookie straight out of the oven. Ronan did not know what he had lost at the time. He suspected he still didn’t, but every time he could have used it, for Gansey, for Blue, for _Adam_ , he felt a pang of guilt.

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to replicate it. But it was always wrong, different, a darker shade of red, a different bottle, and Ronan could feel that it wouldn’t work. He could not test it in the dream, because there was always only one dose, and he didn’t know what it would do to him.

 

_Any rule_ , he found himself thinking, more and more often these days, _if you could break any rule, what would you do?_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated
> 
> Next time: Abby!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry for the long wait, and sorry that the chapter is so short. I've been dealing with writers block and a death in the family and I haven't had the time to get out an update to you all, but I'm back so I hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> Also, to clear up some confusion about how easily Gansey lifts Henry: Gansey is fucking buff, rowing team and rock climbing build mad muscle.
> 
> And Abby is Jamaican and she wears her hair natural, fight me

Gansey usually spent his nights on the precipice of sleep. On the brink of asleep, but not quite there. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep, it was that he physically  _ couldn’t _ . He was used to the feeling.

 

This was different.

 

Everything was too loud all of a sudden, his thoughts, Ronan and Adam’s breath and soft snores, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the footsteps in the hallwa-

 

There were footsteps in the hallway. Slow, dragging footsteps, the footsteps of someone carrying something very heavy.

 

Gansey didn’t want to move. It was probably Dan, going back to the girl’s dorm. Gansey repeated that to himself until he believed it. Then there was a knock at the door. Then a second, more insistent this time.

 

He slowly forced his limbs to get out of bed and inch over to the door.

 

He opened it, and quick as Allison grabbed his arm.

 

“Thank god, help me get him on the couch,”

 

“Get who on the-,” Gansey was cut off as he turned to see none other than Henry Cheng, bleeding and bruised, hanging off Allison’s shoulders, his head was almost limp but his chest moved up and down, all his effort was put into keeping his head from sinking completely forward. His eyes stayed on Gansey’s face, drinking him in. “ _ Henry _ ,”.

 

“Yes Gansey, Henry, now stop standing there with your mouth wide open and  _ help me move him _ ,”

 

Gansey didn’t waste time asking questions, he scooped Henry up and placed him gently on the couch. He wasn’t sure what to do. Did he get ice? Bandages? Blue?

 

“I called Abby, the nurse, she’ll get here pretty soon,” Allison informed him.

 

Blue then, he’d get Blue.

 

It was like a dream, he didn’t remember running to the girl’s dorm, but he remembered knocking on the door, well,  _ knocking _ was polite, Gansey slammed his fist on the door. Blue opened it, bleary eyed, Gansey could see that she was half asleep.

 

“It’s Henry, he’s hurt,”

 

Blue was wide awake.

 

She grabbed his hand, and together they ran back towards Gansey’s dorm. They stopped in the doorway.

 

When they got back, a woman was kneeling on the floor by the couch, inspecting Henry’s wounds, this must have been Abby, the nurse. Allison stood over them both behind the couch, looking worried.

 

The lights were on and Gansey could now see the full extent of Henry’s injuries. His shirt had been deposited on the floor and there was now a bandage surrounding Henry’s lower torso. He had bruises littering his face and the bits of chest that Gansey could see, he had a cut on his lip and blood was now drying under his nose.

 

Blue made a noise like a whimper.

 

Three heads snapped toward her. Gansey’s eyes didn’t move from Henry.

 

“Blue!” Henry said, then coughed, voice weak “Sorry I had to show up in such a state, but Abby here has been taking good care of me thus far. I wanted to stay at home, but I just couldn’t wait, I hope you don’t mind me crashing on your couch for pre-season. I can find a hotel,”

 

“Shut  _ up _ you  _ idiot _ ,”

 

“Is.. is he okay?” Gansey addressed his question to Abby, but he couldn’t look away from Henry.  _ Move your head you useless thing, move your head! _ His mind shouted at him, but he just couldn’t

 

“He’ll be fine, he has a few superficial injuries and a bruised rib. I can’t promise it won’t be painful, but I can promise he’ll make a full recovery with time, bed rest, and a lot of ice and ibuprofen,” Abby said, finishing up the bandage.

 

“Thank you,” Gansey said, seeing that Blue was still taking everything in and Henry was in too much pain to answer. “Thank you very much,” 

 

He finally ripped his eyes away from the bleeding boy on the couch to look at Abby. Her dark hair was pulled up into an impeccable and relentless ponytail, no stray hairs in front of the rubber band, all stray hair behind it. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and had seen far too much. Gansey could tell, and he knew that she could see it in his eyes too, like recognized like, after all. 

 

She did not, Gansey mused, look like someone who had been woken up in the middle of the night and rushed over to a dorm.

 

“Could we-,” Blue stopped, her voice was shaking. “Could we hug him?”

 

Abby’s face softened. “I don’t see the harm, just don’t squeeze too hard,”

 

And, as if a switch had turned on in her mind, Blue was at Henry’s side, arms looped around his neck. Not crying, Blue wasn’t one to waste tears, but comforting, taking Henry in, letting him know that she was there. 

 

Gansey was a little slower, he sat on the couch and moved Henry’s head so that it was on his lap. Then, however strange the positioning, he leant down and wrapped his arms around both of them.

 

He didn’t care that Allison and Abby were in the room, he didn’t care that his back ached from the uncomfortable position he was in, he didn’t care that he should probably get Ronan and Adam, he didn’t care about how tired he was, because right now it was just him and Blue and Henry, and maybe that was alright for now.

 

It was okay. Henry was going to be okay. Gansey could breathe easy, and so he did. Gansey breathed for what felt like the first time.

 

///////////

 

Andrew dreamed of red smears on a white wall. Not blood, but almost. He realized that it was lipstick. The strange smears resolved themselves into letters. In the back of his mind, he knew the words were english, but somehow, he couldn’t read them.

 

He heard a clicking sound behind him, having spent time with Allison, he recognized the sound as the steps of high heels, he turned around to see a woman standing  with her arms crossed. Looking rather annoyed.

 

“Not yet Andrew, not yet. You should probably wake up now, check on the new recruits, build camaraderie and all that. Oh, and tell Bee that Scarlet says hi, ta!” The woman waved her hand in a flippant gesture and Andrew’s vision went dark.

 

Andrew woke up with a start. 

 

_ What _ he thought  _ the fuck _ .

 

Oh well, it was another thing to ask Bee about, he guessed. He got out of bed, careful not to wake Neil. Out of the bedroom’s small window, he saw the sun start to rise. No point in going back to sleep now.

 

_ Check on the new recruits, build camaraderie and all that _ . Well if a dream told you something...

 

Andrew supposed it was as good a time as any to check out the freshmen, make sure they weren’t threats. They were all boring, all except for the wishy-washy girl, Blue, and the dust boy, Adam. How could someone so tired be so determined not to rest?

 

The boy was a contradiction, and he was lucky that Andrew liked puzzles.

 

Still, he didn’t want to bother him just yet, the girl was the next best option. Then again she was probably asleep. It didn’t matter, it had never stopped him before. She didn’t strike Andrew as a liar, so it would probably be more beneficial to talk to her than to go through her things. He just had to find her first.

 

By the time Andrew found the girl, curled up on the floor by a couch in a freshman dorm, he had climbed three flights of stairs, and picked five locks. As he suspected, she was asleep. To his surprise, she was not alone. 

 

On the couch was a boy who looked like hell. It took Andrew a moment to recognize him as the boy from Virginia. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but stranger things had happened. Henry, the boy’s name was. Henry’s head rested on the lap of the dignified one. Gansey.

 

It was a calm picture that Andrew could not quite bring himself to disrupt. Questioning the girl could wait. He would bring her and Adam to Eden’s or something.

 

Andrew closed the door on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Next time: The first pre-season practice


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I wasn't sure I would get you guys this update, but I locked my door and put Fergalicious on repeat, and long story short, here you go. Sorry it's so short. Hope you enjoy!

Adam liked drills, there was something about the monotony of running laps around the court that allowed his mind to calm down. It took enough of his attention to keep his mind from straying anywhere else, but was repetitive enough to not be a mental strain. It was nice.

 

His mind was becoming a place that Adam was becoming a place that Adam didn’t mind being alone in anymore.

 

Someone bumped his shoulder as they passed. Gansey. He smiled at Adam and kept running.  _ Maybe not so alone _ , his mind told him. 

 

Even after all the countless practices they had been through together, it was still strange to see Gansey in a T-shirt and sweatpants. Sure, the T-shirt and sweatpants looked more expensive than any clothes that Adam owned, but Adam found that he no longer minded as much. Jealousy and resenting his friends wouldn’t get him any closer to where he wanted to be. 

 

Adam lost himself in the monotony of running once again. This time, a small smile on his face.

 

///////////

 

Nicky didn’t always like practice, it wasn’t like exercise came naturally to him, he was more a couch-and-processed-food-with-friends kind of guy. He didn’t like the feeling of sweat, clinging to everything it could, trying to pull his clothes suffocatingly close to his skin. He constantly complained about aching muscles. Still, he had to admit, it was good to be back.

 

There was something comforting about the pound of wood under his feet as he ran laps. Nicky thought he understood why Kevin liked it so much.

 

“Nicky, hurry it up, you pull that on court and you cost us the game,” Kevin barked as he ran past. Ah, speak of the devil and all that.

 

Nicky caught one of the freshmen looking at him. Sheena. Nicky sent her a smile. Better to become friends with them now than to wait for a new rift to form. God knows the team had already had enough of those. For a team so centered on camaraderie, they were sure good at pushing people away. 

 

_ But maybe that’s the point _ , Nicky thought, catching sight of Andrew and Neil running side by side up ahead. If they could just keep coming back after they had been pushed away, then they were a real family.

 

///////////

 

It was one of those days where Ronan just wanted to watch the world burn. One of those days where he wanted to drink himself into a stupor, and yell out hurtful words and curses, and drive the BMW off a cliff, and hit everything in sight, and relive every death he had ever seen over and over until he didn’t care anymore.

 

Still, he couldn’t do that. He owed it to Adam. He owed it to himself. His mind was a toxic wasteland at the moment and it was the best he could do for himself right now to stop running straight into it.

 

These days seemed to show up less and less nowadays, now he had Gansey and Adam and Blue. Except right now he didn’t have Gansey. He didn’t want Gansey. There was only so much love you can have for someone who promised you freedom and instead returned you to the very chains you wanted to escape in the first place. But it was Gansey, and Ronan knew that he would forgive Gansey one of these days, but that day was not today, nor would it be any time soon.

 

Gansey wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Ronan didn’t know what the problem was.

 

Still, his anger had to go somewhere. Ronan tried to pound his anger out onto the hardwood floor as he ran, but he felt a new batch bubble up inside him the harder he tried.

 

Ronan knew he would explode today. The best he could do was to make sure that as many people as possible were out of the firing range when it happened.

 

///////////

 

Dan was in love with life. With Matt. With Allison. With Renee. With living in a dorm. With being almost-done with college. And right now, on the track, running laps, breathing in the cool, dry smell of wood and metal, Dan was in love with Exy. She felt the familiar burn in her thighs as she ran laps.

 

She let out a joyous whoop as she ran, drawing a laugh out of Matt, who was running by her side. She sent him a wink and drew ahead.

 

As she ran to beat Matt, she caught sight of Richard Gansey giving Adam Parrish a friendly bump on the shoulder. The two boys that were originally supposed to become foxes.

 

Dan had to admit, she was wrong about those two, getting a closer look, she could see that they weren’t the pampered rich boys she had expected them to be, there was a sense of otherness to them, the way they spoke (and she didn’t mean the accents), the way they bunched around each other like they were expecting trouble, the way they looked at each other like they could discern everything from the other’s eyes. Speaking to them, looking them in the eyes, Dan could see that they had clearly been through some shit. 

 

After listening to what Allison knew about them, and what Kevin knew about them, coupled with a few google searches, a rather strange picture pieced itself together.

 

The wealthy son of some influential politicians is shaping up to be the picture of excellence, then something (the nature of which, Dan doesn’t know) happens and he decides that he needs to find the body of a dead, welsh king. So he travels the world, makes a few friends, and then he finds what he was looking for. End of story. However, years with the foxes had taught Dan things were never as they seemed.

 

The question was, what happened? From what Dan knew, the dead king business was a pretty empty playing field. One thing Dan knew for sure was that they were foxes, through and through, and she had been wrong to judge them without knowing them.

 

Dan was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice when Ronan Lynch punched Jack Peterson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, you didn't think I would just give you a nice, calm character-mindset-revealing chapter without a bit of cliffhanger-ing did you?
> 
> Yeah, so Adam's getting better, Ronan is doing the opposite, Nicky's all accepting, and Dan is suspicious. Oh yeah, and Jack's nose is totally broken.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Next time: I prolong the cliffhanger and give you all a Scarlet chapter! To be fair, it's quite a bit of plot.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There is a brief description of a panic attack in the chapter.
> 
> Also, feel like I should mention that I /don't/ ship Scarlet and the Gray Man. That isn't happening in this fic. Gray Man x Maura Sargent all the way. I have a "hey here's Scarlet's backstory" chapter in the works to sort of illuminate all the vague pronouns and references I use so just please bear with me for a bit longer an I promise it'll all work out.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy the chapter!

Scarlet was having a very good day.

 

She had an footrunner from the agency, a very good friend of hers, basically spouting information that she needed to know.

 

Sure he was strapped to a chair with a gun pointed at his head in an abandoned warehouse, but technicalities.

 

“Tell me where the heads of the organization are,” requested the Gray Man, very nicely if Scarlet had to say anything about it.

 

“No,” said Jorge Ramone, the footrunner.

 

“You get one more try Ramone, where are the Somnilites?” the Gray Man’s grip tightened on his gun.

 

“Where are they? Just a little town called  _ fuck you _ ,” spat the man in the chair. Jorge had never been creative with insults, but Scarlet though that  _ that _ was just  _ bad. _

 

“Wow, he left you with an opening, you could have done a lot more with that,” she called from where she was leaning on a stack of crates.

 

“Shut up, you psycho bitch,” Ramone hissed.  _ Really just unoriginal, childish even _ .

 

“Do the opposite, you stubborn dickhole,” she called back in the same spirit, perhaps a bit more playfully.

 

“I’m going to count to five, then shoot a bullet into your foot, unless you release the information we have asked you for. Whether it’s the only bullet I put into your body, you can decide,” This was Scarlet’s cue, because whether or not Ramone knew it, there were no bullets in the gun. It was Scarlet’s job to put up a good enough show to make Ramone think there was.

 

It was a lucky break that she was such a drama queen.

 

“Might as well do it Gray, he ain’t talkin’,” Scarlet said, stalking over.

 

“You wouldn’t,” The man snivelled “I’m your only piece of information,” Ramone defended, quite arrogantly if you asked Scarlet. Still, a measure of fear became clear in his voice.

 

“One,” was all the Gray Man said.

 

“You’re our only piece of information  _ right now _ . More can be acquired,” Scarlet laughed.

 

“Two,” was all the Gray Man said.

 

“From where? After you took me, they’ll never let you in again,” Ramone, Ramone, Ramone always overestimating his own worth. 

 

_ Self-esteem goals! _ Called a voice in the back of her head that sounded kind of like her old gym-going, smoothie-drinking college roommate.

 

“You think I don’t have people on the inside? I wouldn’t waste all my resources on a simple foot soldier,” Of all the lies that scarlet was telling Ramone, this was true.

 

“Three,” was all the Gray Man said.

 

“Please, you wasted your only visit to the base on me, I had to be important to you somehow,” He was right about that, but Scarlet didn’t let it show on her face, instead, she let out a large laugh.

 

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? Except that wasn’t my only visit. They do rotate out the workers every month, them and their strange rituals, I have about six visits to base left this year. Not to mention my inside agents. You are convenient, but in the grand scheme of things, insignificant,” Scarlet didn’t mention it would take several months to re-integrate and that she didn’t have that kind of time.

 

“Four,” was all the Gray Man said.

 

“Would you look at that? Your time’s almost up,” Scarlet said, sending a smile back at the Gray Man.

 

“Please, please don’t do this, I have a family, I have children,” He didn’t. He knew that she knew. This was a last ditch effort born out of desperation. Scarlet immediately lost a lot of respect for the man.

 

“ We both know that isn’t true, so are you going to spill or are we going to have to give you more incentive,” Scarlet said, gesturing to the bulletless gun. She was getting desperate.

 

“Fi-,” started the Gray Man.

 

“Fine, I’ll talk, I’ll talk,” whimpered Ramone, his former bravado gone.

 

“That’s a good boy, now tell us where your supervisors are,” Scarlet purred, immensely pleased with herself.

 

Ramone steeled himself, as if betraying his organization was as hard as getting shot in the foot.

 

“They’re in-,” Ramone never finished his statement. A red dot appeared in the middle of his forehead and then he slumped forward. Dead.

 

Scarlet dropped to the ground, hands covering her head, startled by the sudden gunshot. The Gray Man’s head snapped up, searching along the upstairs level, searching for the gun that had shot her informant. Scarlet got off the floor and followed suit. She caught a sliver of movement, a black cloaked figure heading out through the roof.

 

Scarlet was having a very bad day.

 

“Damn it,  _ Damn it, _ no no  _ no no no _ ,” This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was not supposed to happen.

 

“It’s not your fault,” the Gray Man started, misreading her frustration.

 

“It  _ is  _ my fault, of course there was going to be a sniper, of course there was. I didn’t factor this in, and now they know what we want, and we don’t know where we’re going,” They had stolen the rest of the plan.

 

“Well we can’t focus on that now,” The Gray Man said, trying to rationalize, trying to salvage the plan. He didn’t realize that he couldn’t fix something that wasn’t yet complete. “what are we doing to get one step ahead?” Ah Gray, always the optimist.

 

“Don’t you get it Gray?” Scarlet moaned, brushing angry fingers into her hair.

“We can’t, they know everything,” 

 

“They don’t, not yet,” it didn’t matter, they couldn’t stop the sniper, they had no weapons on them right now.

 

“But they will,” 

 

“So figure something out before they do,”

 

Scarlet figured that it was worth a try. She lowered her head and stopped talking for a minute, two minutes, three minutes. Ten minutes had passed before Scarlet had exhausted all the possibilities and her head snapped up again.

 

“We get the kids and go straight to the other side,” a pause. The Gray Man didn’t understand, which Scarlet knew, it sounded an awful lot like the old plan. “the long way,” She added.

 

“No,” the Gray Man said simply.

 

“We have to! It’s the only way that they can’t immediately kill us,” Scarlet protested.

 

“They’ll all die anyway!” Of course. He was always thinking about what he knew, who he knew. Never mind the people he didn’t know that were dying.

 

Scarlet sighed. She didn’t want to have to do this, but it was the only way. The lives of the few could never outweigh the lives of the many. “That doesn’t matter, not anymore, because they’re the only way this war is stopping,”

 

“I’m not willing to risk the lives of children to satisfy your need to prove that you can plan on the spot,” This annoyed Scarlet in the way that false advertising annoyed other people. She wasn’t getting what she was promised.

 

Still, she wasn’t going to quit because everything she planned had gone out the window. Even if Gray was bailing.

 

“You’re letting the fact that you care for these kids influence your decision, I need you to forget who these kids are for a minute and remember that we’re trying to end a war here, a big-ass war. Four lives aren’t going to matter when thousands can be saved,”

 

“Thousands might die anyway!”

 

Scarlet didn’t know what to say to that. She could only tell him why she was willing to risk it.

 

“The entire first part of the plan was precautions, and therefore unnecessary, the easiest way to move forward, no, the  _ only  _ way to move forward is to go through with a bumpier ride,”

 

“You say ‘bumpier’ like it doesn’t mean ‘more deadly’! I understand you have a god complex, but try keeping everyone else out of it,”

 

Something in Scarlet snapped. She lunged forward and grabbed the Gray Man’s collar to pull his head down to look him straight in the eye. Her heart started to beat quickly out of fear. She knew logically, he could have her off of him and dead within ten seconds, but he didn’t move.

 

“Look here, Gray, I don’t like this any more than you do but I’m not going to sit here and let this war go on because you fell in love, all right?” Scarlet hissed in his face. The Gray Man’s eyes sparked with interest and anger. She had struck a nerve. “Just because you left her to keep her safe doesn’t mean you’re all high and mighty now. You’re still responsible for this, and she will still die. You don’t get to question my judgement, because I’m the only one willing to clean up your mess,”

 

With that she let him go and started her way out the warehouse doors. She stopped halfway and slightly turned her head back. He still had to know what her plan was. 

 

“I’m doing this, Dean,” Scarlet said softly, using his real name out of habit. “With or without you,”

 

There was a long enough pause for Scarlet to turn around and continue towards the doors, until the Gray Man’s voice called out.

 

“What happened to you Scarlet?”

 

Scarlet let out a bitter laugh. He always knew exactly what to say. She kept laughing out of sheer stress and grief and uncertainty until she was out of breath and then when she couldn’t breathe anymore, she kept going, expelling every breath she took into a laugh. She wanted to stop, but whenever she choked an inhale in, the only thing her body found it possible to do was laugh. 

 

She felt arms enveloping her, allowing her legs to buckle, but keeping her upright. She knew logically that it was just the Gray Man, but in her head, it was someone else. Someone she hadn’t seen for a long time. It was a long time, years maybe, before Scarlet could stand on her own two feet again. She felt older.

 

“What happened to me? What happened to _you_?” Scarlet said emphatically as she pushed herself out of the Gray Man’s arms. He let her go.

 

“I came to you because you’re the best of the best, because you're supposed to be an emotionless killer,” She pointed a finger directly into the Gray Man’s chest for emphasis. But she lost her nerve halfway through the sentence, instead, she used the heel of her hand to wipe her cheeks.

 

 She continued in a softer, but colder voice “knowing you beforehand was just a coincidence. If you’ve lost your edge, you’re of no use to me,”

 

“Fine… fine, what do we have to do?” His voice was grave. Resigned.

 

“Cheer up Gray, we’re going to see your girl a bit early,” Scarlet tried for a smile but she felt it looked condescending, she wiped her face clear of the expression when she saw that the Gray Man’s eyes had gone steely. It was a warning that it would do her good to not mention Maura Sargent again. “Yeah, I figured it wouldn’t help,”

 

Scarlet felt she wasn’t being fair. No, she knew she wasn’t being fair. She had to give him an out. “If you want to quit, to stop now, you can go, I won’t judge you, heck, I’d applaud you, but if you stay, you’re here for good. You don’t get to chicken out. You don’t get to question anything. Are you going to stay?”

 

The Gray Man just looked at her stoically.

 

“All right then. Let’s get to work,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yeah! so next time we see Scarlet, we also see Maura! Yay!
> 
> Next Chapter: Ronan gets to punch a jerk, and the foxes meet Henry
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess what guys? I added a little extra scene for you. So I hope you enjoy.

Later, Ronan didn’t even remember what had set him off. Maybe Jack had said something, maybe Ronan just didn’t like his weaselly little face.

 

Ronan did remember lunging at him. The momentary pleasure that blood and the sound of flesh hitting a wood floor. He remembered throwing punches and aching knuckles.

 

He remembered that Jack had fought back too, but that was more the product of the bruises and the pain and not Ronan actually caring enough to remember.

 

Ronan remembered shouting, the voices that he was too angry to put to faces. Except one.

 

“Ronan, stop!”

 

Ronan remembered  _ knowing _ that the voice was Gansey. He remembered it making him punch harder.

 

Ronan remembered letting out a laugh after a particularly hard punch to the gut, and to his dismay, the laugh sounding wrecked and beautiful and  _ free _ .

 

Ronan remembered strong arms wrapping around his midsection, pulling him off of Jack. Not Gansey, he liked using his words, but Matt, who held strong and steadfast. Ronan remembered struggling to get out before looking around wildly.

 

Ronan remembered seeing a mix of feelings on the foxes’ faces. Anger, pity, annoyance, fear. Blue’s expression was something fierce, though fiercely what, he didn’t know. Gansey looked haughty and angry without meaning to, as if he had the right to feel like Ronan had wronged him. Perhaps he did, but Ronan didn’t care. But then Ronan remembered Adam.

 

Ronan remembered his face shooting up and searching wildly until he caught sight of him. Adam was facing him. His face was cold and steely but his eyes and the shocked slump of his shoulders were telling. He looked betrayed, and Ronan could see traces of disappointment in his eyes. And Adam’s gaze, Adam’s terrible, horrible, awful gaze, was fixed on Ronan’s bloody hands. 

 

Ronan remembered going limp at the sight of Adam, letting himself be carted away, red-hot shame rising up in his stomach, an apology or an explanation rising in his throat.

 

The next few moments passed like a dream. Suddenly he was sitting down in a room, logically, he knew it was the foxes’ nurse room, but to him, it felt like purgatory. Ronan sat down, looked at the blood drying on his hands, and waited for judgement, remembering Adam’s eyes over and over.

 

The first one in was a tall black woman who took one look at him and sighed. It was the sigh of someone who had seen dozens of beaten and broken boys and who would see dozens more. This must be Abby. Her expression had been tinged with pity and Ronan was too tired to refute it. He instead smiled, sharp and fierce and empty. 

 

Abby’s expression did not change, instead she said:

 

“Looks like you got beaten up pretty bad,”

 

The smile slid slowly off of his face, a confused look replaced it. This isn’t where he expected the conversation to go. She had to have known that he had started the fight, so why wasn’t he getting a “really, Ronan? Again?” or a “Why do you insist on throwing away your life?”.

 

But she didn’t. And Ronan was not sure if he should be grateful or not, so he deadpanned “you should see the other guy,”

 

Abby laughed. A little giggle that escaped her lips before she could stop it. She quickly clamped her mouth shut and cleared her throat.

 

Ronan smiled again. A little sheepishly this time, though he didn’t know why. 

 

“Where are you hurt?”

 

“My chest,”

 

“Okay, then off your shirt goes,” Abby smiled, looking a little relieved with his compliance. The way he looked, blood on his hands, it was no wonder that she had expected a fight. He didn’t know why the woman looked 

 

Then, suddenly, he did, this woman reminded him of his mother. His smile fell. Then returned, bigger and brighter. Less because of Abby’s resemblance to his mother and more because of the realization that the real world could create people like her without magical influence.

 

“Here,” Abby said, holding up a zip-top bag full of ice. “For your eye,”

 

Ronan accepted the bag and let the cold of the ice burn his hands before slowly placing the bag onto his eye, hissing at first.

 

As he iced his eye, Abby’s fingers moved quickly across his torso, skillful and brief, only touching when she had to. When she was satisfied, she gave a sharp nod.

 

“No broken bones, just a few bruises, you’ll heal nicely,”

 

Ronan wasn’t surprised, if there was anything he knew about himself, it was that he would be healed.

 

///////////

 

Jack was dragged, kicking and screaming and cursing from the court. Allison watched him go. Her eyes flew to Dan, who looked like her last hope for an easy season had just flown out of the window.

 

Coach was calling Abby, hand on his forehead, covering his eyes. He sounded frustrated and tired. Allison could empathize. 

 

She looked over at Gansey to get his take, but he was staring after Jack, a blank look on his face. If he was anything like the rich assholes she knew, Then there was something she needed to do.

 

She took a deep breath and strode briskly towards where Kevin and Aaron had just pulled Jack, bumping into them on the way and saying nothing, she had no use or time for apologies. She came to the room where she knew Jack was being held, the visitor infirmary.

 

There were sounds of anger and pain and things smashing. Then silence. Then laughter, tired hysterical laughter. Allison opened the door on Jack, back facing her, sitting with his head in his hands, giggling hysterically. The laughter slowly died down.

 

“Oh, Nicholas, what a mess we’re in now,” He said as the laughter died down.

 

“Who’s Nicholas?” Allison asked.

 

Jack jumped and turned, whip-fast. For a second, eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape, he looked like just a boy. Not someone who did everything he could to make sure his words cut like knives. Then he recovered his cool and Allion remembered why she hated him.

 

“My imaginary fucking friend, what do you want?” Jack snapped. Allison raised an eyebrow.

 

“Watch yourself little britches, I’m here to help. If you don’t want that then I can just go,” She waited, when Jack said nothing, she smiled. “Good, I’m here to tell you not to antagonize Richard Gansey, or any of his friends,”

 

Jack let out a laugh, nothing like the cathartic hysteria she had witnessed before, this one was harsh and sharp. “What makes you think that I’m going to listen to you? I don’t know if you noticed, but I was the one who was attacked. Ronan hit first,”

 

“Yes and I’m asking you, for your sake, to not hit back,” Allison requested, smile hardening, her tone professional and cold.

 

“I’m respectfully declining,” Jack answered in a distorted mockery of her voice. “What makes you think you have any sway over me, you’re just a nosy bitch with a saviour complex,”

 

“Honey, I’m not here because I want to save you, I’m here because you remind me of someone I used to know and I’d rather not see you go down the same path, it’s your decision whether or not you listen to me,”

 

A slow, horrible smile creeped its way onto Jack’s face. “Oh, I know exactly who I remind you of, sorry to break it to you  _ honey _ ,” He said, echoing her words back at her, “But I’m not Seth Gordon, and I never will be so why don’t you go back to painting your nails and leave me alone,”

 

“Look, I know you think you’re some kind of badass because we picked you up from juvie, but you had better watch yourself because everyone here has been through a hell of a lot more than you,” Allison chided, she was angry, but this kid’s life would get ruined if he didn’t listen.

 

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” His voice had gone dark, she had hit a nerve, but if Allison was being completely honest, she didn’t care.

 

“Oh I understand plenty, I looked you up the moment you pose a threat,” Andrew Minyard could never say she hadn’t learned something from him. “You were facing a life sentence for murder, right?’

 

“ _ Manslaughter _ ,” he corrected, his face furious. “Not murder, it was manslaughter,”

 

“Someone is dead, you caused it, sounds like murder to me,” Allison knew she was pushing it, but she was mad.

 

“Murder is intentional, manslaughter isn’t,” 

 

“What-ever, you can stress over legal definitions when I’m not talking to you, become a lawyer for all I care, but do it while not attacking Richard Gansey. Ta, darling,” and with that she left Jack to his musings.

 

///////////

 

The first thing that registered to Henry when he woke up was pain.

 

It was all-encompassing, for a second, everything was dark, he was in a hole in the ground and he was being shouted at by men whose faces he couldn’t see. 

 

Then Henry remembered how to breathe. He took a few deep breaths. His eyes remained closed.

 

The second thing that registered were the voices.

 

“So he came all the way from Henrietta to see them?” The voice was definitely female, it wasn’t Blue, Allison, or Abby, so it must have been Dan Wilds or Renee Walker.

 

“Apparently, he showed up last night,” This voice he knew for sure, Matt Boyd.

 

“Dang, you think he’s dating one of them?” Nicky Hemmick.

 

“Not sure, I thought they were dating each other?” Matt again.

 

“How much do you have on that?” Henry thought this was Dan, so the first voice.   
  


“Fifty bucks,” Matt answered

 

“Damn, rich boy, you sure seem confident,” Allison Reynolds, so she  _ was _ here.

 

“Come on, you bet that they were all dating each other, how unlikely is  _ that _ ,” Nicky whined.“Come on, Adam, won’t you give us a clue?”

 

“I’m not sure I should encourage y’all gambling, so, no,” Ah, Parrish, his loyalty was inspiring.

 

“Damn,” Nicky said “He’s kinda cute, you know, if you ignore all the bruises and stuff,”

 

“Thank you,” Henry replied automatically, eyes still closed.

 

“Jesus christ!” Matt exclaimed.

 

“No, but I appreciate the confusion,” Henry said, opening his eyes. 

 

“How long have you been awake?” Adam asked, smirking from the back wall.

 

“The past minute, I’d say. Hey do these guys live here or something?” Henry asked Adam.

 

“They were all clamoring to meet the ‘mysterious stranger’” Adam joked.

 

“Oh, is that me?” Henry smiled at the foxes from his horizontal position on the couch. “One second, pardon my language in advance,” Henry pushed himself into a seated position, a string of curse words flowing out of his mouth all the while. When he was done, the foxes stared at him, amazed. Nicky clapped, whether it was at him getting up, or the steady stream of dirty words, Henry wasn’t sure, nevertheless, he was flattered. “So about your bet, yes,”

 

“Yes you’re dating Gansey or Blue, or yes they’re dating each other?” Dan asked, amused.

 

“Yes,” Henry said simply. “So, Parrish, how are the rest of our crew? All right I suppose? Gansey? Ronan?” It was like the whole room flinched. “Oh dear, who did he fight?” 

 

“None of your fucking business, Cheng,” said a voice from behind him. Ronan. Slowly, he turned, being careful not to hurt himself. Ronan looked awful, but Henry had seen him worse.

 

“Hey! We can be black eye buddies!” Henry said. The rest of the room did not join him in his levity. That was okay, they didn’t see Ronan like he did, even Adam. Adam believed that Ronan could become tamer, Henry knew he wouldn’t, his wildness would just find another outlet. Henry tried not to believe too hard in anyone changing their nature. People would be who they were, even if you wanted them to change, and fighting was as quintessentially  _ Ronan Lynch _ as his sharp edges and tattoo.

 

Though, as he witnessed Ronan and Adam lock eyes across the room, Henry remembered that Adam Parrish would probably always know Ronan better than he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so um... yeah, I gave Jack a backstory. I feel like I should explain Allison's apprehension toward Gansey, in her eyes, Gansey is from the world she wanted to leave behind. Allison has known two examples of rich people in her life, her parents, who tried to manipulate her into giving up her passion, and the Moriyamas who killed her boyfriend, so of course she's going to take precautions against someone who has enough money to ruin lives.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Next time: Maura Sargent


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much too short chapter after much too long, I know, but I'm here! Thank you all for all your kudos and comments, they really motivated me to get back into this fic! (For all you raven cycle fans, I also have a Vancouver crowd fic for you to read while you wait on my updates centered on Koh and Cheng2 so if you like how I interpreted them here, that's where you could get more of that)

It was 5:00 when Scarlet pulled the awful white Mitsubishi into the too-large driveway of Fox Way. it wasn’t her turn to drive, but she had taken over when it seemed that the Gray Man would get them crashed for how fast and recklessly he had been driving. Scarlet thought it had been shock, but the farther they got from that god-forsaken warehouse, the easier it was to see that he was nervous. 

 

Fancy that! This hulking mammoth of a man brought down to quivers by a woman. She must have been something fierce. Or, Scarlet mused, perhaps he was actually in love and it wasn’t an act.

 

“Well, my dear, we have arrived,”

 

An eternity had passed between arriving at 300 Fox Way and exiting the car, all the while, Scarlet could see the Gray Man’s hands shaking. She didn’t know his hands shook when he was nervous. Hell, she didn’t think she had ever seen him nervous before.

 

It was sunset. Scarlet’s eyes kept flying back to the beautiful orange sky, the Gray Man’s internal struggles not fazing her. She had always been a sucker for pretty things, and this sky was certainly pretty.

 

It was times like these when Scarlet wished she could stop time, just to make a beautiful thing last a few minutes longer. She took a deep breath, savored the moment, and turned back to the Gray man, who had taked to slowly raising his hand, as if to knock on the door and then dropping it. While she was not on the strict schedule of before-the-new-plan, Scarlet didn’t have all the time in the world.

 

“Dear god Gray, get a hold of yourself!” He looked at her, she glared back. “Think of something you want to say to her, knock on the door and then say it,” The Gray Man turned back to the door. “If you’re not knocking, then I am,” the Gray Man was shaken out of his stupor, the Gray Man raised his hand to knock on the door, when it opened.

 

There in the doorway, tall, bed-headed, and barefoot, wearing an oversized T-shirt and still looking better than Scarlet could manage after an hour of trying, stood Maura Sargent. She looked much less scary than Scarlet thought she would, taller, willowy-er. Her eyes were brighter, her skin was less smooth. She looked less.. perfect than Scarlet thought she would. Still, she was undeniably Maura Sargent, and she definitely wasn’t any sort of domineering crime boss.

 

Her face was unreadable, as was the Gray Man’s. They stood, looking at each other for what seemed like hours, days even. Scarlet felt guilty, for even though nothing had been said or done, she felt like she was intruding on an incredibly private and intimate moment. A cliche book or movie reunion of some sort.

 

“You couldn’t have called before you showed up? I would have changed into something more appropriate for the occasion, or at least brushed my hair a bit,”

 

“I thought it would be better to surprise you,”

 

“Did you really?”

 

“No,”

 

And then they were holding each other and whispering things into each other’s ears that weren’t meant to be heard out loud.

 

Behind her stood a short, but fierce woman. She was dark in every sense of the word. Dark skin, hair, eyes, lips, clothes, aura. Everything about her was dark. She watched the two with happy eyes, until she realized she was being watched. Then she turned her eyes on Scarlet and suddenly Scarlet was rooted to the spot. The woman’s eyes slowly traveled up and down Scarlet’s body. Scarlet didn’t know whether she felt violated or not.

 

After a long bit of studying Scarlet, the woman lifted her chin as if finding a measure of comfort in her apparent superiority.

 

“Could you two continue this inside,” The short woman said- no, commanded. Maura and The Gray Man followed the order without taking their eyes off each other and disappeared behind who Scarlet had discerned as Calla Lily Johnson. Well, she was in for something interesting at the very least.

 

“Are you not going to join them?” Calla sneered.

 

“I would if I could, but I can’t, the ancient charms have been set on your house, can’t enter without invitation,” Scarlet intoned. This pricked Calla’s interest, a long, sharp eyebrow raised itself about halfway up her forehead and the corners of her lips pricked upward.

 

Calla looked at the setting sun and back at scarlet, then asked “Vampire?”. 

 

Scarlet laughed in surprise “Wow, I haven’t heard that one in a while. You’re close, but not quite,”

 

Calla’s face settled itself into something a little bit more unimpressed.

 

“Witch.”

 

Scarlet smiled “Bingo, may I enter this home?”

 

“Depends on what you want to enter it for,” 

 

Scarlet sighed “Isn’t that always the way? No one gives anyone a little trust anymore,”

 

“Save it for a pretty princess you want to trick into eating an apple,” Calla grinned, it was less a grin than a  _ your move _ conveyed through smile

 

“Are you not one?” Scarlet asked, and then  _ smiled. _ Calla  _ smiled _ too and Scarlet knew she had said the right thing.

 

Calla stepped aside and swept her arm out in a motion that seemed too dramatic and too domestic for her. Scarlet liked it. “Won’t you come in?”

 

///////////

 

Maura Sargent did not believe she was awake, but she had pinched herself several times and she wasn’t waking up so it must have been real. The strong arms that were gently cradling her body was real. The soft, pleasant scent of ginger surrounding her was real. The soft breaths on her neck were real. 

 

Still, there was a surreal energy surrounding the situation. She told the Gray Man so.

 

“It might be so,” he replied “for all my years working with dream artifacts, I’ve never really been able to tell when I was actually awake. For all we know, you aren’t real and I’m the one who’s asleep,”

 

“You know,” she started, “we’re going to have to talk about this eventually,”

 

The Gray Man pulled back slightly and looked down at her with a bittersweet look and Maura suddenly didn’t want to know why he was here. “We will,”

 

“However,” Maura said, pulling him in the direction of her bedroom, “ I predict we don’t have to talk about anything right this moment,”

 

“Well, we wouldn’t want to ruin a prediction, now would we?”

 

The whole night, they did not kiss, they did not need to, they did nothing but hold each other and speak. They spoke about Blue. They spoke about Calla. They spoke about the Gray Man’s stupid white car and how Henrietta had the best tuna. They spoke about cows and how they would perhaps go to India one day. They spoke about knives and who best wielded them. They spoke about how blackberries tasted sweeter when the farmers who picked them were good people. They talked about The Kinks. They talked about Gansey. They talked about death. They talked about love, the implied  _ I love you _ echoing throughout their conversations. They didn’t say it. They didn’t need to 

 

When the sun rose through Maura’s bedroom window, she and Mr. Gray were still holding each other, they had not slept at all, but neither of them were tired.

 

They were there.

 

They were together.

 

They were triumphant.

 

They were happy.

 

They were real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah! I had to let them be happy for at least a little bit, they've literally got hell to go through later.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!!!
> 
> Next time: ""What exactly were you thinking?" Adam said, face ashen"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When english isn't your first language and you forget the words "at stake" for a few days. I'm sorry that this chapter took so long but a mix of college classes and writers block kept me from updating.

How was Adam sure that he loved Ronan Lynch?

It could have been the way that Ronan always seemed to fit next to him. How their hands naturally intertwined. How there was always an arm around a waist, always a leg tangled with another, always warmth between them. It was not that.

It could have been how Ronan was a romantic. He cooked Adam dinner, he bought (or dreamed) Adam flowers and mix-tapes and hand lotion. He called Adam ridiculously sugar-sweet pet names like “my star” and “my angel”, he kept Adam’s transformer polished on a desk in the barns right next to a small toy car that played music when the wheels spun. He gave and gave and gave and gave and gave but expected nothing in return. How, when Adam tried to refuse, tried to call it pity and turn it away, Ronan was just as stubborn as he was, and would not let him. How even after all this, he still looked at Adam like he had hung the moon. It was not that

It could have been the way that Ronan knew how to make him smile and laugh. How Ronan knew exactly how to elicit the reaction he wanted, how Ronan knew him, and how that was the best gift Ronan could ever have given Adam, unknowable Adam. It was not that.

These things were clues, they were insights into why he loved Ronan, how he loved Ronan. But how did Adam know? How did Adam feel in his bones every time he looked at Ronan, that that thud in his heart, that flush in his cheeks, the smile in his heart was love?

It was that Ronan could make Adam angry in a way that no one else could. Adam tried not to attach too many expectations to anyone, so that when they inevitably let him down, they never upset him too much. But Adam admired Ronan so deeply, so wholly and completely that when Ronan failed to meet his usual glory, it was upsetting. Not to say that Adam was completely without blame, he had just forgotten that Ronan was human, that he wasn’t perfect.

It was that Adam, Adam who had every reason to be angry at the world, didn’t think he knew what it was to be truly upset until he saw Ronan again. Eye swollen, cheeks red, hands no longer caked with blood, but knuckles bruised.

It was that the thing that sent a roll of flame over Adam’s stomach was the brightness in Ronan’s eyes. It was a kind of happiness that Adam recognized, a kind of beer-and-fast-cars kind of happiness that Adam did not realize had disappeared, it was Ronan-before-Blue, no, it was Ronan-during-Kavinsky. 

It was that when Ronan looked in his eyes, sheepish and ashamed, Adam felt the overwhelming desire to forgive him.

The silence in the room had been so pointed that Adam had forgotten there were others in the room, they seemed determined to keep it that way, they filed out of the room with hushed whispers until only Ronan, Adam, and Henry remained, and Henry only because he couldn’t leave.  
“Henry, could you do me a favor and pretend like you don’t hear us?” Adam found himself saying, his accent unintentionally spilling from his lips.

“Man, I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Henry answered, halfway through plugging in a pair of headphones and turning his phone volume much higher than recommended. “You couldn’t get me to step in the middle of this if you tripled my inheritance,”

There were a few moments of a strange silence with Ronan and Adam looking at a closed-eyed Henry.

Ronan broke the silence “Yeah this is still too fucking weird, can we go to the dorm?”. Adam nodded and walked out, ignoring the rest of the foxes in the hallway, he felt Ronan following, not far behind.

Then they were in the dorm and they couldn’t use location to stall anymore.

So this left Adam and Ronan, staring at each other, neither saying a word. They looked into each other’s eyes waiting to see who would break first, Adam with his bounds of anger and sadness and Ronan with his guilt and reluctance.

Ronan did not break, he looked at Adam with every ounce of remorse in his body and willed Adam to accept it. Adam was harshly reminded that he was a catholic. He was used to confession.

“I’m sorry,” Ronan said, he sounded so reluctant Adam almost believed him.

“You’re not,” Adam said, and he knew it wasn’t true. Ronan didn’t lie, and he didn’t make a habit of apologizing.

“I am, Adam, I-,” Ronan’s voice fell. “I’m not sorry for hitting him, and I’m not sorry that he hit back, but I am sorry for how it made you feel, and- no, fuck that sounds condescending, shit, look, I made a mistake, I made a mistake and I’m asking you to forgive me,”

“What exactly were you thinking?” Adam asked, face ashen. 

There was a moment of silence, then a surprised “what?”

“I want to know what you were thinking, what did he say? Why did it make you so angry?”

This threw Ronan off, he brought a hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his scalp. Adam was too angry to be endeared. It was a quiet anger, so unlike the explosive feeling he was so used to.

“I don’t know,”

“What”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure he even said anything, the little shit, but I was just angry. I was angry at Gansey and Wymack and Kevin and the fucking court, and there the stick-dick was, looking just the right amount of stupid and cocky and offensive, so I just hit him, and then he hit back and then I hit him for that and well...” he gestured to himself in a sort of well-look-at-me motion.

His words had come out in a strange, unorganized jumble of speech that Adam recognized as the way he spoke when he felt guilty. He didn’t know if knowing that Ronan regretted making him feel this way made it any better.

So, how did Adam Parrish know that he was in love with Ronan Lynch? It was because of shouting at him, Adam told him “come here”. It was because, instead of storming out of the room, he opened his arms and beckoned Ronan closer. It was because instead of being two boys on two opposite sides of a wall, they were two boys curled up on a bed, forgetting the world for a bit.

“It’s still not okay,” Ronan whispered to him.

“No, it’s not,” Adam agreed “but it will be,”

////////////

Scarlet smiled, entering the house, feeling the charms tingling on her skin. The Gray Man and Maura were nowhere to be found. The house was beautiful and strangely roomy, strange splotches of paint were slapped messily onto the wall. Feathers and beads and bottles hung from the ceiling. A beautiful stained glass light hanging over a dining table projected colorful geometric shapes around the living room.

“All right,” said Calla, closing the door behind her “now, what do you really want.”

“I came for two things, one requires Maura Sargent, and she is currently incapacitated, and likely will be till morning. Is there anyone in this house who would volunteer to help me with an extremely dangerous ritua-,”

“Stop,” Calla interrupted. 

Scarlet was a little disgruntled, she was sure that whatever Calla was used to, Scarlet thought that being very the-fate-of-all-magic-depends-on-this would warrant a little bit of respect for the words coming out of her mouth. 

Calla strode into a small door and after a few minutes in which Scarlet very sneakily examined the room for listening devices or hidden cameras, she strode right back out with a vodka martini and a mojito. She gave Scarlet the mojito.

“Drink, then continue,” Calla’s voice held no room for an interjection. Scarlet had a drink.

“Right, um would anyone in this house want to- woah! There’s the tequila! Jesus Christ!”

“I’m afraid he isn’t here right now, you’ll have to deal with me,” Calla commented dryly, sipping on her martini and looking every bit like a disney villain.

Scarlet was a little disoriented. “Right, um. Dangerous ritual. Fate of all magic at stake. Anyone want to help?” Scarlet punctuated her jumbled statement with a sip of her mojito.

Calla rolled her head and shoulders in a few fluid, cat-like movements “It’s a little too late for a ritual, and I’m sure you know none of us are proper witches, not like you,” Calla grinned at her with a dagger-sharp smile.

“You don’t need a lot of ‘proper’ witches,” Scarlet replied confidently “You just need me,”

Calla snorted into her martini. “I’m sorry, but you can’t expect me to believe that you’re that good,”

Scarlet tried to keep the hurt tone out of her voice, but somewhat failed on that end “I’d be that good with a few psychics and a mirror on my side, and I believe this is the place where I can enlist the help of a few psychics and a mirror, am I right?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Calla said. “By the way, you might need this back,” Calla held up a sharp, thin blade. Scarlet’s favorite knife, she reached into her boot, where it was kept, and instead picked up a tarot card, the fool, she would be angry, except she had already had a bit of tequila, and she couldn’t hold her liquor. She laughed instead, and Calla laughed too

Calla’s smile had softened when she said “I’ll help with your little ritual, finish your drink,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my experience, this is how the fox way ladies deal with visitors, by getting them tipsy. I dragged this whole "Ronan beats the shit out of someone" thing out pretty long, but it resulted in cuddles so I expect forgiveness.
> 
> Also, to all my readers in Florida an the Carribean, be careful okay? Hurricanes are no joke.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> next time: the ritual happens, woo!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a Scarlet chapter, but it is one of two, meaning the next one will also be a Scarlet chapter. I know that a lot of my readers aren't really interested in Scarlet because they're here for the actual book characters, but bear with it please, there's a reason I'm doing this, and a lot of the little bits of information I've left in here are really important to the plot later. Ok, I'm done, enjoy the chapter!

Aliya Khan, age 6, knew she was magic. Her parents disagreed, but what did they know? They didn’t talk to the trees, they didn’t hear the whispers of the breeze, they didn’t see the people in the stars, they stepped on the cracks in the sidewalk, where the fairy villages were, and when they were covered in pixie bites, they claimed they were from mosquitos.

 

Aliya was different. Things happened around Aliya. She could have just been lucky, but she heard things and she saw things that other people refused to.

 

_ How did you know that? _ People would ask, like she was so smart for knowing which bird was chirping, or when the snow would melt. Aliya would ask back,  _ how didn’t you? _ It was right in front of them, it was their fault if they chose not to look.

 

One day, walking in the city, Aliya saw a girl across the street, holding her mother’s hand, with her dark hair in puffs on her head like two rainclouds.

 

Aliya had always liked the rain.

 

The wind rushed around her, pulling her across the street towards the girl. Aliya let it, her parents were walking in front of her, arguing about something or the other, they didn’t hold her hands. Not because she didn’t want them to, but because they were two busy using their hands for other things. 

 

They didn’t notice when she crossed the street.

 

She followed close behind the girl and tapped on her shoulder as soon as she got close enough. 

 

With all the courage she could muster, Aliya said “HI I’M ALIYA AND I THINK YOU’RE REALLY PRETTY,” she was a bit too loud, but she thought that the rest of it was okay.

 

The other girl’s mother stopped and let out a laugh. “Rosie, when somebody says something nice to us, what do we say?”

 

The other girl looked down at her feet and then looked up and gave Aliya the biggest smile in the world “I’M ROSIE AND THANK YOU AND I THINK YOU’RE REALLY PRETTY TOO AND DO YOU WANNA BE BEST FRIENDS!” she was a little too loud too! Aliya thought she did it on purpose to make her feel better.

 

“YEAH!,” Aliya replied. She thought that this moment was the happiest in her life, apart only from when she was allowed to wear red lipstick for her ballet recital.

 

The happiness did not last very long however, for her parents soon swooped in and began to apologize for her. In the mess of things however, Rosie had whispered in her ear, “Do you wanna come back to here again tomorrow?”

 

Aliya nodded very solemnly. Rosie smiled, and when they were both taken away, they both had the promise of tomorrow held in their hearts.

 

However, Aliya wasn’t able to go back, her parents didn’t let her.

 

///////////

 

Scarlet thought the hardest thing to do to complete her mission was getting Maura to agree to entrust Scarlet with her child’s safety. It wasn’t (though that wasn’t far down on the list). The hardest thing about getting the Fox Way portion of her plan finished was getting Gwenllian to open up her door.

 

Well, door was generous, it was the panel of wood that kept the attic from the rest of the house.

 

“Get the door open, crazy!” Calla yelled, banging on the door with the might of a thousand men, otherwise known as half-power. 

 

“No!” Gwenllian cried from behind the door, followed by some other noises that made Scarlet think that Gwenllian was throwing things, the first reaction the two women had gotten out of her. Scarlet meaningfully caught Calla’s eye, Calla looked her up and down, unimpressed. But Scarlet refused to be judged, at least now they knew that Gwenllian was actually behind the attic door (Scarlet hadn’t actually been sure).

 

Calla, as if spurred on by the reaction, only banged the door harder and screamed louder. “Open this door now,”

 

“So the red tree girl may slip into my head and steal my fingers and toes?” shrieked Gwenllian, the banging and clanking noises growing more erratic. The witch had taken to calling her ‘the red tree girl’, Scarlet suspected the ‘tree’ bit was a dig at her height.

 

“I’m not going to steal your fingers and toes,” Scarlet replied, a little hurt. “And I’d only be in your head for a little,”

 

“A little turns into two littles turns into three, red,”

 

“Only one little, on my honor,” Scarlet replied, bemused.

 

Calla gave her a look that said  _ don’t encourage her _ , but the various noises behind the door had stopped. Then they resumed. Scarlet sighed.

 

“Just call Gray, he’s always been able to deal with her,” Calla moaned. She picked at  a splinter she had gotten from banging on the door.

 

“He just got here! He’s back with Maura, I don’t want to bother them. I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m trying to get in Maura’s good graces,” Scarlet looked down at her heels, getting caught in the wood paneling of the stairs.

 

Calla levelled Scarlet with a bemused look “Honey, if you weren’t in Maura’s good graces, you’d know,”. Perhaps that was true, or perhaps Calla just liked to see Scarlet blush.

 

“Oh, and is that how you expect me to go about things in a strange unfamiliar place, you just want me to ‘know’ them?” Scarlet asked jokingly

 

Calla shrugged, a matching smile on her face “You’re a witch, you people love to talk about how your good intuition is,” she raised her fingers and waggled them.

 

“Witches can’t tell the future unless they’re psychic,” Scarlet tapped her temple in a ‘remember?’ gesture “That’s why I need you,”

 

“That’s the only reason..?” Calla said, trailing off.

 

“Well I’m not so sure about that..,” Scarlet replied. Had Calla been standing so closely before. The leaned in and...

 

Gwenllian made a particularly bad crashing noise above them. They both jumped back.

 

Scarlet sighed out a “She isn’t cooperating, we can try again later,” and began to make her way down the hallway, cheeks reddening by the second.

 

“Wait.” called Gwenllian’s voice, significantly closer to the door. “What will you give, red girl, for your little bit of my mind,”

 

There. This was what Scarlet had been waiting for, people were predictable, they were all big gaping holes of want, and Scarlet was more than ready to give. “Would a little bit of my mind do?” Scarlet asked, turning slowly. Gwenllian head was hanging, upside down through the space where her door used to be, swathes of hair currently entangling in a struggling, unamused Calla’s face.

 

“I think that will be all, red,”

 

Scarlet smiled at her, and Calla, finally free of the hair that had entrapped her, stormed down the stairs.

 

“You like that flower, don’t you red?”

 

“Who, Calla?”

 

Gwenllian silence confirmed Scarlet’s suspicions.

 

“So what if I do?” Scarlet asked defensively, “What do you care?”

 

“She’s not the first flower you’ve liked, is it?” Gwenllian asked.

 

Scarlet went down the stairs without responding.

 

///////////

 

When Aliya Khan, age 19, decided to run away from home for the eighteenth time that year, she knew exactly how it was going to go, she’d run a few miles, feeling free, walk a few miles, feeling determined, get to the city, reevaluate her choices, and run back. She had a good thing going, two relatively loving parents, three square meals a day, and a good solid college education. All she had to do was last until graduation.

 

And she would. But she had to run into the city tonight, the wind was calling her. She would meet people tonight, people who were like her.

Finding the love of her life was easy, it was a matter of closing her eyes and letting her ears guide her (she wasn’t quite sure what she would find, but she knew where Rosie was). Street performers were easy to find. A voice, soft and high and strange and wonderful, lilted up to her ears.

 

“ _ So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it. I know they’re wrong, wait and see _ ”

 

Aliya smiled and ran towards it, signs like this didn’t come often. What she found was a small, circular plaza, surrounding a fountain. A few couples, young, old, and in between were dancing to the music. A short, stout woman with a ukulele was standing on the fountain.

 

“ _ Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me,” _

There was something about the girl and the music that captured Aliya. It all seemed familiar, somehow.

 

Then she bumped into her future best friend.

 

“Maria-Jose Hernandez, just call me MJ,”

 

Aliya let her eyes sweep quickly over the other girl, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She couldn’t have been older than her, but in a hoodie and some ratty old shoes, she made Aliya feel underdressed. Aliya gave her the best smile she could muster.

 

“Yes ma’am!”

 

“You know, I’m not sure wether to be flattered that you were just checking me out, two seconds after meeting me, or just plain offended,”   
  


Aliya giggled “I’d recommend a healthy mixture of both, but you reserve the right to think of me as you please,” She extended a hand for a shake, and MJ took it and the moment it happened, a voice that no one else could hear screamed  _ not her _ ! This was not the right girl. That was okay, most of the girls she met here weren’t.

 

“May I have this dance madam?” MJ offered a hand. Aliya took it and began to sway to the music along with MJ.

 

“ _ All of us under it’s spell, we know that it’s probably magic _ ,” the performer called

 

“So, you come here often?” MJ asked.

 

“You’d be surprised,” Aliya smiled, spinning her around. “I’m usually here when there’s a performer,”

 

“As am I, in fact, I know the performer, Rosie, I’m her roadie of sorts,” MJ chuckled.

 

Aliya laughed too, it was the kind of laugh that came from realizing that something had been under your nose the whole time.

 

_ Finally, _ Aliya had found her. “Would you care to introduce us? I’ve had the biggest crush on her for the longest time,” she delivered it as an offhand comment. It wasn’t, not to her.

 

To her surprise, MJ sighed in relief.

 

“Oh thank god, I was trying to figure out how to break it to you that I wasn’t interested, girls aren’t really my thing. Or boys. Or anyone, really,” Aliya couldn’t say that she wasn’t disappointed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sense of  _ rightness _ .

 

“Well I was wondering why you weren’t looking at my legs,”

 

“Well they’re long, they’re thin, they’re legs. You’re like a spider. What’s your name, spider?”

 

Aliya paused. This was her chance. “Scarlet,”

 

The song was ending. MJ and Aliya pulled each other close in the way of two barely-kids in the city, trying to find their way in life, a bond passed between them and they knew that they were somewhat the same. This was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

 

“ _ Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me _ ,”

 

///////////

 

There was something about being a woman at Fox Way that meant you had to drink a lot. Scarlet, who couldn’t hold her alcohol, sipped at her Shirley Temple, because while alcohol was wonderful, she would prefer to be sober if she was performing a paramount ritual. She had doubts about the psychic’s ability to hold their liquor. She expressed this concern and Jimi, a large, kind woman that smelled strongly of rosemary, said:

 

“On the contrary honey, it clears up our inner eye,” Then she giggled and sipped at her mint julep. Scarlet was not convinced.

 

“Scarlet!” called a slightly tipsy Maura Sargent. “Pick a card,” her tarot cards were splayed out in her hand. Scarlet picked one without any ceremony and flipped it over. The Fool. The same card Calla had slipped in her boot three days ago.

 

“I think your deck just called me an idiot,” Scarlet said. The Gray Man smiled at her and sipped at his drink. It was something brown and manly and so Scarlet had never bothered to learn what it was called. She didn’t much care for manly things.

 

“That’s not what it means,” Maura said empathetically “It means you’re innocent, you look at the world with optimism, the world needs more people like that,” Scarlet expected that Maura was trying to make her feel better.

 

“So your deck is calling me an idiot,”

 

“My deck is calling you a bit of an idiot, yes,”

 

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time,” Scarlet said, sipping a bit of her drink. “Where’s Calla?” 

 

The Gray Man raised an eyebrow that said he knew exactly why Scarlet wanted to see Calla. Maura, oblivious said “Probably outside, why?”

 

Scarlet, not really wanting to explain her purpose said “I have some more questions about the ritual, I really want to make sure it goes right,” and with that, she got up off the green couch and made her way outside.

 

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Scarlet heard Maura ask the Gray Man. The Gray Man whispered something unintelligible to her. “Oh!” Maura said.

 

Scarlet smirked and walked out onto the back patio and found the most beautiful tree he had ever seen. The red-orange light of the sunset filtered through the leaves. Transfixed, she walked to it and placed a gentle hand on its bark. She felt a heartbeat. 

 

“ _ A tree light, I haven’t come across one of your kind in years _ ,” Scarlet said in the tree’s language.

 

“ _ We are almost gone _ ,” replied a deep voice from the tree in the same language. “ _ Please leave me alone _ ,”

 

_ Well _ , Scarlet thought,  _ rude _ .

 

“I wouldn’t bother talking to him,” a gruff voice called from the patio “he’s just as crazy as Gwenllian,” 

 

Scarlet turned to greet Calla, a smile unintentionally curling the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t say she’s crazy, she just has her own moral code,” Scarlet defended. “She’s obviously been through a lot,”.

 

“Has she now?” Calla asked, meeting Scarlet at the tree.

 

Scarlet led out an exasperated breath “Yes, you’re the psychic, shouldn’t you know this?”

 

“Should I?” Calla asked, drawing closer.

 

“You know, the ‘answering my statements with questions’ is getting kind of old”

 

“You’re right,” Calla shrugged, and turned around to leave. 

 

Scarlet grabbed Calla’s hand. “Wait, that didn’t mean you have to leave!” Scarlet protested, any thoughts of playing it cool flew out the window. Calla looked at Scarlet as if making her flustered had been the goal all along. Scarlet hoped that the redness of her cheeks would be mistaken for the rays of the setting sun shining through the beech leaves.

 

Calla smiled. “Then what do you suppose we do?” She asked. She said nothing about Scarlet’s hand in her’s. Scarlet made no move to remove it. She caught sight of a small metal box on the small wooden patio. A radio.

 

“Let’s dance,” Scarlet said with a smile.

 

“There’s no music,” Calla replied, arching a dark brow.

 

“Radio. Porch,”

 

“Turn it on then,” 

Scarlet, without letting go of Calla’s hand, ran to turn on the old porch radio and pulled Calla along with her.

 

She turned it on, then turned the dial to a channel she had listened to on the road to Fox Way. Almost immediately, a soft crackly voice lilted up from the radio

 

“ _ All of us under its spell, we know that it’s probably magic _ ,”

 

Scarlet listened to the music for a moment and let a small wave of sadness wash over her. She then said “no, no I’m afraid this isn’t it,”

 

Calla tried next, a dark melody lifted up from the radio, Scarlet didn’t hear any words. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t quite ‘dance’ music. 

 

“My inner eye predicts we should let the radio decide,” Calla joked. Scarlet pressed the ‘find’ button on the radio. 

 

“ _ I work hard, every day of my life, I work hard till I ache in my bones _ ,”  _ Perfect _ .

 

Scarlet kicked off her heels and put her free hand on Calla’s shoulder, Calla put her hand on Scarlet’s waist, they began to dance.

 

“ _ I get down on my knees and I start to pray, till the tears run down from my eyes _ ,”

 

They moved to the music, their bare feet tickling in the grass. Who knew Calla could dance?

 

“ _ Lord, somebody _ ,”

 

Scarlet spun out.

 

“ _ Somebody _ ,”

 

Scarlet spun in.

 

“ _ Can anybody find me _ ,”

 

Calla dipped Scarlet, the gesture strong and secure. The rays of the sun illuminated them, their breath tickled each other’s faces. They didn’t mind.

 

“ _ Somebody to love _ ,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me during this chapter: SCARLET, YEAH, HER, RIGHT THERE. SHE IS GAY. YOU SEE THAT BREATH SHE TOOK OVER THERE, THAT WAS A GAY BREATH. SHE LIKES WOMEN.
> 
> The songs referenced during this chapter:  
> The Rainbow Connection- I like the Weezer/Hayley Williams version, but the Gwen Stefani version is really good, or if you like the original Muppets version, that's really good too. (Also, RAINBOW, see what I did there)  
> Somebody to Love- Queen, one of my personal favorites
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Next time: Scarlet backstory part 2 and hopefully I finally get to the ritual, we'll see


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know, I know, its been forever. But to be fair, school is a bitch, and beating writers block is a bitch. 
> 
> Anywho, I'm back now and I come bearing a new chapter! with more on the way, I'm sorry that this one is so short, but there's a bit of a time jump between this chapter and the next.

It was a long while until midnight, and Scarlet was insulting dyed bits of cotton thread.

 

“You dumb lump of thread, I bet you came from a stupid tree that couldn’t tell its branches from its roots,” She said to a bit of red cotton. “You are a hideous shade of blue,” She hissed at an ultramarine tread that she actually liked very much. This was because she was tying each thread together at the very ends. A tedious, but very necessary task.

 

A young woman by the name of Orla had helped Scarlet out at the beginning of the process, before leaving to help make dinner. Leaving Scarlet, alone, to tie little pieces of thread at the ends.

 

“Oh, you stupid little mustard yell-,”

 

“Well, what did cotton ever do to you?” asked a voice from behind her.

 

“It needs to be imbued with negativity, Gray,” Scarlet said, giving the mustard yellow string a nasty glare.

 

“And so this is your big plan? Insulting the thread?”

 

“Geez, Gray you make it sound like I’m an idiot,” Scarlet turned and gestured for him to come over “I know I’m new to this crime thing, but I came out of the womb doing magic,”

 

“Is that so?” Gray grunted, sitting down next to her. 

 

“Sure!” Scarlet quipped, pulling a quarter from behind Gray’s ear. They shared the kind of chuckle that came from being friends for a long while and not really needing something funny to share a laugh about.

 

After the laugh had died down, Scarlet leaned her head on The Gray Man’s shoulder and he returned the gesture by putting his arm around her own and saying “You know, you have to stop saying you’re new to the crime thing, you aren’t, not really,”

 

“Yeah I am! I’m just not new to being around crime, definitely new to taking part in it, and even then, this is just an evolved version of when I used to keep you and Rosie on the straight and narrow,” Scarlet chuckled “Well, relatively straight and narrow,”

 

“Hey, you got her out of the pickpocketing game,”The Gray Man said.

 

“Yeah and into the hitman one,” Scarlet began tying string together again, and said to the next one, a cobalt blue string “You dumb fuck,”. The Gray Man looked at her, startled, but then realized she was talking to the string and chuckled.

 

“College is expensive you know, and not everyone has the voice of an angel,” The Grey Man took his arm away from around Scarlet’s shoulder and she shivered at the loss of warmth. He picked up a crimson thread and gave it an icy look, and Scarlet figured that it counted as enough negativity as an insult.

 

“You know, angels don’t actually sing that well,” because Scarlet wouldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. 

 

They were silent for a moment.

 

Then “It wasn’t your fault,”.

 

Scarlet did not believe him. The Gray Man knew this and comforted her anyway.

 

///////////

 

It was time for the ritual, it had been time for the ritual for years. The passage wasn’t picky about when it happened, but it did want to make sure that it happened.

 

When it first began to be time for the ritual, the passage hadn’t known the word  _ time _ , it hadn’t even known the word  _ ritual _ , but then millenia passed and humans began to create names for things.

 

The passage didn’t know what it was, the passage only knew that  _ it was _ . The passage connected two worlds (world was another word that the passage had learned). 

 

When it first began to be time for the ritual, all humans knew how to complete it. It seemed, however, that no humans felt the need to. And so the passage waited. Passages are patient. But then less and less humans knew how to complete the ritual

 

It also happened that the passage got tired of waiting without having anything else to do. So it began learning, it learned languages and it learned the meaning of time over and over until it was a word that the passage knew in every spoken language and more.

 

On one side of the passage was the world of creation. They didn’t have magic and so they made things to imitate it. And the other was the world of wonder, they had magic and so they didn’t feel that they needed to create anything else. It was the passage’s job to balance both worlds so that neither completely lacked the other.

 

Still, no one said that magical passages weren’t allowed to have fun, The passage turned humans into stories, stories into legends. Merlin, Joan of Arc, Niall Lynch in the world of creation. And still more humans were able to wick away and steal some power. Jack the Ripper, Amadeus Mozart, Joseph Kavinsky.

 

Then finally it happened.

 

One year, only thirty people out of seven billion knew how to complete the ritual.

 

And no one wanted to help.

 

So the passage, as always, did what it had to. It was both the worst thing it had ever contemplated doing, and the thing that would save the worlds forever.

 

So it created a narrative. The antagonists arose on their own. Humans who believed that magic was unnatural, that it should be destroyed. From then on it was easy, it channelled all the magic it could into a girl who would know how to complete the ritual. The perfect protagonist. It linked her soul with it’s perfect match and pushed them together at every opportunity. Then it created supporting characters. A man with a tortured past and a particular affinity towards finding magic.

 

Then the passage did the cruelest thing it had ever done. It took the life of the protagonist’s soulmate.

 

It allowed the protagonist, its prized creation, to wallow in grief for a while, and lose her supporting character, then the passage used the means available to it to speak to the girl. 

 

_ Your love is here _ , it said, and it spoke the truth, for it took anyone magical in death.  _ And we can bring you to her. And we can stop your magic from being stamped out. And we can help you see your friend.  _

 

Then it all fell apart.

 

_ Enough, _ said the girl _ my love is gone and it will not do any good to have her back, I spent my time with her, and that is enough. _

 

The passage lamented making its creation so noble, and then showed the real reason that it needed the ritual. It showed her a war between the two worlds, it showed her deaths and destruction and all the things that the ritual would begin to stop.

 

_ Will you help us _

 

_ Why is this happening?  _ she asked.

 

_ Will you help us _

 

_ What’s causing this? _ She asked?

 

_ Will you help us _

 

_ Yes, yes of course.  _ She promised.

 

It took years, and now, tonight, the passage’s creation would help her people. She would save the passage, she would do what no one else had cared enough to do before.

  
  


It was time for the ritual.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, new character? Seventeen chapters in? And this time it's a sentient passageway to the world of magic? Wild.
> 
> Have questions? Well, it's the perfect time to get down to the comments bar and ask away!
> 
> Next time: I get my head out of my ass and actually write about the characters you clicked this story to read about. Wow. crazy.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this is new, me actually writing a chapter relatively quickly! I hope you guys like it.

Nicky was drunk, but he wasn’t that drunk.

 

He understood that logically, he probably was making a big deal out of nothing, he tended to be a dramatic drunk. But he was pretty sure that there shouldn’t have been a white horse walking out of Ronan Lynch’s dorm room after Blue Sargent and Adam Parrish’s first trip to Eden’s. 

 

He was also pretty sure that the sane reaction to a horse that popped out of a room it couldn’t possibly have been in was not saying “god dammit, not again,”

 

However, it was exactly Blue Sargent’s reaction.

 

Adam was already on his way into the dorm room, calling Ronan’s name.

 

Nicky whispered to Aaron “you’re seeing this right?” but Aaron couldn’t seem to form words. 

 

Neil was staring at the horse, mouth opening and closing like some sort of exotic fish. And Andrew…

 

Andrew was showing the most emotion on his face Nicky had ever seen, his eyes wide open in what Nicky would describe as wonder, had he not known better. His mouth was slightly agape, like he had opened it to say something and forgotten to close it. He moved closer to the horse and slowly raised a hand as if to touch it.

 

Then Kevin ruined it by coming up the stairs and shrieking like he was being chased by a vampire when he saw the horse.

 

The horse reared up on his hind legs, startled by the sound. And it towered over Andrew, hooves kicking. For one sickening moment, Nicky imagined Andrew, his baby cousin, the strongest person he knew, trampled to the ground by an impossible white horse. And then Neil was in the way, yelling “Woah there” and all the things that Nicky considered cowboy phrases, and calming down the horse.

 

The horse was docile again but Andrew’s face was an emotionless mask again. So, Nicky wasn't convinced that everything was okay

 

This was the moment Ronan decided to walk out of the dorm room with Adam, he looked distinctly bedraggled and he was wearing a cowboy hat and holding what looked like a saddle. It wasn't exactly on-brand for Ronan Lynch, but it wasn't a bad look.

 

Adam took in the scene, Nicky and Aaron standing off to the side, both in various stages of shock, Kevin, still standing on the last stair, looking like he wished he was dreaming, Andrew managing to look like he was just fine and Neil, calming the horse. 

 

“I can tell we have a lot of explaining to do,” 

 

Ronan decided he didn't want to explain, and decided to put the saddle on the horse.

 

“How did you do that thing with the horse?” Aaron asked Neil.

 

“When my mom and I were in Scotland, I worked as a stable hand to make some extra money,” Neil answered, not taking his eyes off the horse.

 

“Do you know if there are any nearby?” Ronan asked.

 

“What, a stable? Yeah, really close actually, about a mile west of the exy court,” Neil supplied, confused.

 

Ronan somehow managed to get the horse to kneel so he could get up onto the saddle.

 

“You can ride a horse?” Blue asked, Ronan somehow managed to look like he both thought Blue was an idiot and also thought that Blue was smarter than to ask him questions like that “Of course you can ride a horse,why am I surprised?” 

 

“Wow, I'm dating a cowboy,” was Adam’s wry comment.

 

“Shut up Parrish,” Ronan said, grinning like an idiot.

 

Nicky, like an idiot, thought that this was an appropriate moment to pipe up “how are you going to get the horse down the stairs,” 

 

“I don't think I'm gonna have to,” Ronan said, then, with a soft kick and a “hyah!” from Ronan, the horse jumped through the open roof of Fox Tower.

 

Nicky was way too drunk for this.

 

///////////

 

Blue hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that she was living with other non-psychic women.

 

So when Dan began releasing surprisingly accurate predictions over breakfast on September third, she wasn't surprised.

 

“Wait wait wait, it’s September! That means I get to open that book that Blue’s cousin gave me! ‘September first: Bring an umbrella to practice’ how did she know it was going to rain! She gave this to me in July!” Dan said through mouthfuls of Lucky Charms.

 

“She's a psychic,” Allison replied, painting her nails blood red.

 

“September second: Channel 97.6 on the radio is playing a lot of 90’s R&B today, and don't forget to write tomorrow’s game plan down before you forget it,” Renee read over Dan’s shoulder.

 

“Can't believe I missed an R&B marathon,” Dan sighed sadly. “What's next,” Dan said, flipping the page “September third: The eggs in your fridge are bad, ooh, really? I thought we had a few days. And there's a Buy-one-get-one-free deal on hair dye at the local beauty store, oh that must be for you, Renee”

 

“I have been meaning to re-do my ends, they’re fading a bit,”

 

“I think you look fine,” Dan said. “Okay, oh shoot, remind Blue about early morning practice, dude, you’d better get to it,”

 

“Shit!” Blue said, falling out of bed. “Shit shit shit,” she said, frantically changing into her uniform. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit,” pinning her hair into something that looked intentional. “see you guys later, have a good day!” And she was out the door, running towards the parking lot. She fumbled with her keys and practically jumped into the car. 

 

By the time she got to the court, Blue had convinced herself that being late was the worst possible thing she could have done for her exy career in college. Being late showed poor form, and it was unprofessional, and she could basically have given Kayleigh Day the middle finger and told her to fuck off.

 

“Sargent!” called a voice from the court parking lot. Kevin Day himself.

 

Sure he was a raging asshole, but he was also the best striker in the world, and Blue intended to learn everything she could from him (and also, like, tell him off a few times).

 

But before she could learn anything, she had to deal with being late. She waited for Kevin to go on one of his trademarked rants, but it never came, instead he said.

 

“Thanks for coming, I thought you weren’t going to make it,” (in a very passive aggressive voice, might she add). It made her more angry than if he had yelled, she flipped the bird at his back as he retreated back into the court.

 

///////////

 

“Again,” Kevin said.

 

Blue had been running the drill since she arrived, tossing ten balls in quick succession at a circle drawn in dry-erase marker on the wall, if one ball fell outside of the boundaries, Kevin made her repeat the drill. She had lost count of how many times she had tried.

 

Then, after what must have been the gazillionth time, she hit nine balls within the boundaries, and one on the very edge of the circle. Blue’s head whipped to find Kevin’s.

 

He stared at her through icy eyes. “Again,”

 

Blue grumbled, gathered the balls and went back to it.

 

Then after a billion more times, she got ten within the boundaries of the circle. 

 

“Yes! Ha! Yes! I did it! I did it, did you see that? I did it!” Blue did a little mini happy dance and looked at Kevin with a gigantic smile. Kevin’s smile was not as gigantic, but it was definitely there.

 

“Good, I’m happy for you, now do it again,”

 

“What?”

 

“It doesn’t mean anything unless you can do it like it’s second nature,” Kevin said “Now do it again,”

 

Blue did the drill, over and over again, until she got ten balls in the circle ten times in a row. She walked over to Kevin and dropped her racquet in front of him.

 

“All right, pick that up, I’ll add a bit of variety in,” Kevin said, opening the door to the court. He walked over to the wall and erased the circle. Blue had never been so happy to see anything disappear in her life.

 

Then Kevin drew another, much smaller circle in the place where the other circle had been. 

 

“That should keep you sufficiently challenged for now,” Kevin said, walking back to his place off of the court.

 

Blue grumbled and picked up her racquet again, it was going to be a long morning.

 

///////////

 

The Breckenridge Jackals were by far the most brutal team in the college syndicate. If Kevin had to choose between playing the jackals and throwing himself off a cliff, he would probably choose the cliff, just because he would end up with less injuries.

 

Still, the road to finals was taken not by throwing oneself off of rocky precipices, but by playing the most violent NCAA exy team on the court and winning.

 

“Alright team, we could get away with losing the last game,” Wymack- his father said. 

 

“But we didn’t lose the last game,” Nicky piped up.

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that we aren’t allowed to lose this one. Play, play hard. The Jackals are looking to win by any means necessary,” 

 

“Meaning violence and as many checks as they can get into the game,” Kevin added

 

Coach tried to take the reins of the pep talk again “That doesn’t mean we’re stooping to their levels, the refs at jackals games tend to be prejudiced in favor of the home team, if I see anyone here get anything worse than a yellow card, I’m signing them up for the next forty two kilometer run through the city,” 

 

“There it is,” Ronan jeered “I was wondering when you would mention a marathon, pay up Dan,” 

 

Wymack glared as the money exchanged hands “Well good for you Lynch, are you actually going to be a halfway competent dealer this time?”

 

Ronan grunted “we’ll see.”

 

“Ronan,” Gansey reprimanded

 

Ronan sighed “Fine, just because Dick asked so nicely,”

 

Kevin had noticed Gansey and Ronan get over whatever issue they had at the beginning of the season and grow into a bond that resembled one between brothers. Unbreakable, familial, full of love.  Adam approached Ronan and lightly nudged him in the shoulder and whispered something into his ear that made a Ronan struggle to keep a laugh in and shove him gently. Kevin felt a smile rise up on his face.

 

“Okay so  first half strikers, Kevin, you're playing the full half, Neil, if you overexert yourself, I'm switching you out with Sargent, that's a promise not a warning,”

 

Neil gave a mock salute. He had grown more playful since he first arrived at the court. Something warm, pride, Kevin realized, rose up in his chest.

 

“First half strikers, focus on scoring as many goals as possible, you’ll be taking a lot of hits, Gansey, Sargent, second half strikers, again, points, I'm not expecting you to get as many as the first half, but your minimum? Two goals each. Offensive dealers, Wilds, Velez, get the balls to the strikes and keep the backliners occupied, let’s see if Velez can use his smartass mouth for a good purpose for once,”

 

“Hey!” Jack protested

 

“Not my fault you can’t shut up. Now, Reynolds…” As Wymack’s voice faded out, Kevin took a moment to think about the game. 

 

The Jackals weren’t coordinated, they focused more on strength than precision, but it was enough to give them a slight edge over their smaller players. There was a reason Wymack hadn’t threatened to switch him out with Sargent, they needed as many large players on the court as possible.

 

Sargent herself was revving up in a corner, stretching, the buzzing intensity that surrounded her before games was here yet again. Kevin remembered the same intensity that had convinced him to let her on the team. He made her way over to her.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to sub in for Neil and play the second half too,”

 

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” was her brusque reply, she cracked her neck and shoulders and Kevin caught her arm to make sure she was listening to him.

 

“That isn’t what I asked,” This time, Sargent looked Kevin square in the eye.

 

“Yes I will,” She wrenched her arm away from him “I know you’re used to being able to push people around, but I’m not one of your little lackeys, so I’m warning you, if you touch or talk to me like that again, you and I will have  _ words _ , are we clear?” 

 

The way that Blue Sargent said  _ words  _ made it sound like she meant  _ a fight to the death _ , so Kevin decided against disrespecting Blue Sargent for the time being.

 

“I just want to know that you've got this,” Kevin said.

 

“Then rest assured,” Blue hissed “I do, you’ve drilled it into my head enough for me to get it, now go back to whatever you were doing before and stop bothering me”

 

Kevin took this as a comfort that everything was well in hand.

 

///////////

 

Being on the court was a welcome sensation. Kevin felt himself grow into his jersey and padding

 

The press liked to say he became someone entirely new on court. Kevin knew that was wrong. He simply became more of who he already was. 

 

It was a long quarter, and Neil was where he needed to be for most of it. Though he was provoking the backliners a bit too much, Kevin was pretty sure he would get punched at one point during the game.

 

The other team was relentless. A bit through the second quarter, the defensive dealers seemed to be trying to make Kevin drop his racquet, it was an old strategy, but Kevin had to admit it was a good one. Kevin tried to pass the ball to Neil, but one of the the defensive dealers and the backliner trailing him, Jason Kim, were effectively blocking his path. 

 

At this point, Kevin had to hope and pray that something would stop the game.

 

Sure enough, Neil’s face was greeted with a fist, and after scoring on a penalty shot, he was switched out with Sargent.

 

Blue bumped Kevin’s shoulder as she took her place on court and he immediately felt a burst of energy, like magic. Knowing the freshmen, it probably was.

 

“Any last words of advice?” she asked as she took her place on court.

 

“Yeah, give them hell,” Kevin replied.

 

Her laugh rang in the air along with the referee’s whistle

 

///////////

 

“Damn,” Henry said when he heard the final score “they never stood a chance, I forgot how hot it was when you two win games.”

 

“Coach?” Dan asked loudly, as to gather the attention of the room. 

 

“What, Wilds, I want to go home,”

 

“Of course, of course, in due time, but first,” Dan paused for dramatic effect and Kevin fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead, he smiled. “I believe that we were promised a bottle of Tequila!”

 

Cheers resounded around the room. Kevin was looking forward to drinking as much as possible. 

 

Neil and Andrew left the room as quickly as possible. Ronan and Adam left soon after.

 

Then most of the vixens left, then Andrew, Neil, Ronan and Adam came back, probably for alcohol. They stayed for the disney movies that Matt was marathoning.

 

“Hey,” Kevin said to Shauna, the freshman who was currently acting as bartender to the Foxes and Vixens. 

 

“Hey,” she replied “what’s your poison,”

 

“Do you think that you could let me have a whole bottle of vodka?” Kevin asked

 

“I think that I could let you go fuck yourself,” Shauna said fondly, then she left to go find a bottle of vodka. 

 

While he was waiting. Kevin felt a ball of energy pop up by his right elbow.

 

“Sargent,” he greeted her “Is there anything I can do for you,”

 

“Nothing yet,” She smiled, reaching behind the bar for some pineapple juice and a cup.

 

“Good game today,” He said

 

“Yeah not bad for the worst striker in the universe, huh?” Blue said

“Not bad at all,” Kevin agreed. Blue grinned and opened her mouth to say something, when she was interrupted by the door opening.

 

“Mr. Gray!” She said instead.

 

“Gina?” Asked Nicky.

 

“You!” Cried Matt.

 

“Geez, Gray,” Said Scarlet “I think we’re a little early,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highlights of me writing this chapter:
> 
> *writing the word succession* "Haha.. succ"
> 
> "Oh Kevin, you're such an asshole"
> 
> "How much blatant ignorance about horses can I fit in this chapter?"
> 
> *Obsesses over parentheses*
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Next time: Everyone literally dies


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this is a quicker update then usual, this is because I've had this chapter written since I uploaded chapter five and not because I'm a super fast writer. I made some edits but its mostly the same writing and characterization as earlier in the fic, so excuse the lack of quality and general change in syntax.

What. The. Fuck.

 

Andrew’s thoughts were beginning to follow a common vein, and the common vein went a little bit like  _ whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck…. _ And continued on until he understood what was going on. 

 

The stream of confusion has been constantly playing in the back of his head since a few months ago when he was almost trampled by a horse that had apparently come out of Ronan Lynch’s dreams? What?

 

Andrew had a high tolerance for bullshit, apparently the world, as usual, thought differently.  _ Hey Andrew _ , it seemed to be saying, t _ hings have been going pretty good for you recently, so you know what? Fuck you. _

 

Yes, Andrew could deal with a lot, but a mysterious woman from a weird dream he had three months ago? Just showing up? Out of nowhere? 

 

What the fuck?

 

Of course, he didn’t let his inner bewilderment show outwardly. He only stepped in front of Aaron and Nicky where they were sitting on the rug in case things got ugly.

 

And apparently Aaron and Nicky knew her? They hadn’t told him, and there would be consequences.

 

“Well then,” The woman in red smiled apologetically, like she had shown up to a dinner party a bit earlier than was customary, and not like she had just broken into the athletic dorms. “Ain’t this embarrassing,”

 

The grayish man’s eyes were flicking around the room, they found Gansey, Lynch and Parrish, and finally settled on Sargent. 

 

Sargent was already on her feet and on her way to him, as was Gansey. Andrew wasn’t sure whether she was about to fight or hug him. Andrew didn’t care, his attention was focused on the woman in red, his only intention was to protect those he had promised to.

 

“You have questions, I can tell,” The woman said, she was addressing the whole room, but she was looking directly at Ronan Lynch. “My liege,” she said to him, respectfully and without a trace of irony. So Lynch was royalty, Boring.

 

“The fuck?” was all Lynch had to say in return, in all honesty, Andrew agreed.

 

“Who are you and what were you doing in my dreams? And who was that other boy in the dream? Was he real? What was that bottle you gave me?” Matt asked, rapid fire. Matt had a tendency to ask stupid questions and it was going to get him killed someday. If ANdrew cared he would have said something.

 

He opened his mouth to ask more questions but the woman in red interrupted him. “You can call me Scarlet, my name is not, in fact, Gina Carmichael, sorry I had to deceive you, Aaron and Nicky,” Scarlet checked the time on the clock behind them

 

Behind Andrew, Aaron, dazedly muttered “s’alright,”

 

“The other boy was Prince Matthew Lynch, brother to Princes Declan and Ronan Lynch, son of King Niall Lynch. He is very real. The bottle is- actually, where is the bottle?” Scarlet did some sort of complicated hand gesture behind her back.

 

Matt’s face went blank “In my dorm room, under my pillow,” he said without inflection, then he regained control of his facial features “What did you just do?” He asked, the picture of confusion.

 

“I just took a few precautions to make sure you would tell me the truth, glad to know Kavinsky’s boys did their job and told you not to trust me,” She checked the time on her red, plastic watch. “Why would I tell them to tell you not to trust me?” She asked theatrically. “Because if you had given the bottle to Ronan, he would have used it immediately,”

 

“What were you doing in my brother's head?” Lynch asked.

 

“That was an accident, he's a dream, he's more prone to being pulled into the dreams of others,” Scarlet explained. Andrew catalogued that but if information, something told him it would be important.

 

“Why are you telling us that, why not keep your motivations a secret?” Kevin asked calculatingly from the kitchen, although his words were slurred enough to be almost unintelligible. 

 

“Because I need you to trust me?” Scarlet asked, like she was unsure. “Because I’m trying to truthfully answer your questions?” Scarlet again checked her watch. “Because I need to kill time?” She needed to kill time? What for?

 

“Okay, um” a high voice interrupted, Allison. “I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in thinking that this is fucked up, what’s going on? How do they know you? What do you want?”

 

“Oh, um for Nicky and Aaron, I showed up here and pretended to be related to someone on the basketball team, I asked for directions to the athletic dorms, even though I kind of already knew where they were, because, fun fact, Grey and I used to go here,” that would explain how she got in. Alumni passes let anyone into any part of the school.

 

“And for Matt and Andrew?” Neil asked. And of course Neil had figured out that Andrew knew Scarlet because of course he did. It was getting a little too easy for Neil to read him and Andrew didn’t know how to feel about it.

 

“Well for Matt, I just sort of created a dream pool, it’s like a phone call, but like, in your head, and Matthew Lynch, as said before, kind of picked up a connected line and was able to listen in,” Scarlet checked her watch.

 

Andrew heard movement behind him, he kept his eyes on Scarlet, but he turned his head back to catch a glimpse of a flash or red hair shifting to keep sight of the grey man.

 

“I know him,” Neil said, softly, then again louder, to the grey man. “I know you, don’t I? I remember you from somewhere,”

 

The grey man looked at Neil’s face, searching his features for any sense of recognition. His eyes widened slightly when he realized. “You’re Mary’s boy,” Ah, so this man was on his mother’s side. Less likely to be a threat, but still on the verge of being dangerous to Neil. “You have her nose,” Oh that would drive Neil’s ego off the charts, having something on his features that didn’t belong to his father.

 

“You had a book, right? You wrote a book? I remember my mom saying something to you about your book,” Neil asked. The grey man smiled unconsciously, like he didn’t know he was doing it.

 

“Yes, that’s right,” the grey man said. 

 

“You wrote a book?” asked Scarlet “Why don’t I own a copy?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in fraternity in Anglo-Saxon poetry,” The Grey Man answered calmly.

 

“Oh buddy, oh Grey, now you’ve done it, you have made a big mistake, bigger than the time that I decided ‘hey, dating men might not be that bad’,” Scarlet quipped.

 

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered that I’m the man you chose or offended that I’m the one who turned you away from dating men,” The Grey Man responded.

 

“Not the point, the point is that you assumed whether or not I was interested in something! Now I shall be forced to become an expert in- what was it again?”

 

“Fraternity in Anglo-Saxon poetry,”

 

“Fraternity in Anglo-Saxon poetry! Geez, Grey it sounds more boring the more you say it, I can’t believe you and Calla like this stuff!” Scarlet checked her watch. Andrew had had enough of the banter.

 

“Are you done stalling or are you going to explain what you keep waiting for,” He said. Scarlet looked over at The Grey Man and raised a questioning eyebrow. The grey man shrugged.

 

“Oh, it isn’t really anything big, I’m just waiting for the poison that I put in your drinks to kick in,” Scarlet said offhandedly.

 

Andrew whipped around. Aaron and Nicky were collapsed on the couch. They looked like they were sleeping, but they weren’t breathing, Andrew checked Nicky’s pulse.

 

Dead.

 

Neil.  _ Neil _ . Neil.

 

Andrew’s legs were starting to fail. Neil was still standing, but soon his knees buckled. Andrew clawed over the carpet to him.

 

“Andrew,” he choked, and it sounded like a prayer.

 

Andrew didn’t have anything to hide anymore. This was it. “Neil,”

 

“Andrew,” Neil breathed. They were laying on their sides now, if Andrew tried, he could pretend they were in bed and not bleeding out on a shaggy dorm room carpet.

 

“Neil I-,” Andrew didn’t know what to say, now that he had to. He thought there would be time. Why wasn’t there more time? “Neil, Neil, I-...  _ Neil _ ,”

 

“Sshhh...” rasped Neil, because he always had to have the last word, even when they were on the verge of death. “I know,” and then he closed his eyes. He let a last breath escape him. 

 

And then he was gone. Typical that the junkie had the nerve to die first.

 

Andrew had never wished harder for an afterlife.

 

Andrew closed his eyes. He started one of those letters to the universe that Bee was always trying to get him to write in his.

 

_ Well universe, it’s been shitty. I had a short, terrible life, I had little to no effect on the world, and I let the people I promised to protect die. I’m not sure what sort of sadistic kicks you got from bringing me into existence, but hey, you found a way to get me out of it. Good for you. Hey, maybe I’ll be able to sleep without nightmares now. Who knows? Not me, I’m talking to a nonexistent entity.  _

 

_ Goodbye and Fuck you, Andrew Minyard. _

 

He closed his eyes and for the first time in his life, he let himself relax.

 

He deserved it, he was dead.

 

///////////

 

Andrew opened his eyes. He was standing in a field at night. There was a thick fog surrounding him. 

 

“Andrew!” a voice called. Nicky. Aaron was following behind him. They both looked different somehow, truer. They both had a light in their eyes that wasn’t there before. 

 

Nicky ran towards him and moved towards him, then stopped before touching him. 

 

Andrew stared at him for a moment before pulling them both into a tight hug.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you both so much _ , he thought desperately, hoping to convey what he couldn’t say out loud.

 

“I love you too,” Nicky said. Whether he was responding to Andrew’s thoughts or his actions, Andrew didn’t know. He could find out later. For now, he was content to hold his family close.

 

“Andrew?” asked a voice from behind him.

 

Neil.

 

_ Neil. _

 

Andrew turned around slowly. “Yes or no?” he asked

 

Neil looked at him and smiled, there were tears in his eyes. “It’s always a yes with you,”

 

Andrew elected to ignore the statement in favor of pulling Neil into a kiss. Aaorn and Nicky were right behind them, Andrew didn’t care. Something might pop out of the fog and kill them again, Andrew didn’t care. Neil was right here.  _ Neil was right here. _

 

Someone behind them cleared their throat. It was Sargent, the rest of the foxes were standing behind her. As well as the woman who had killed them all only minutes before.

 

“It took you long enough, we’ve been waiting for you for weeks,” Allison drawled.

 

“What now?” asked Dan.

 

“Now,” Scarlet said. “Shit goes down,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. They dead.
> 
> I cherish the idea of Andrew being an emotional weirdo inside his head. I Stan the idea of him being a boy who loves his family, ok? If anyone wants to tell me that it's out of character, I will happily quote them passages of All For the Game. (Did I use the word Stan right?)
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated
> 
> Next time: Scarlet explains what the fuck is going on


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, not the continuation of the plot I'd promised, but still, something that I thought necessary, because, reading the last chapter, I realized that there were a few things about Scarlet that weren't tied up, a bit of character revelation I wanted to get in there, and a lot of explaining that I hadn't done yet. So here's a chapter full of some clarifications.

-Thirty minutes (alternatively: three days) later-

          

Telling David Wymack that she had poisoned and killed all of his players went about as badly as Scarlet expected it to.

 

“You WHAT?!” He cried angrily.

 

“I killed all of your foxes,” She replied “All of them, every last one. Boyd. Dead. Wilds? Dead. Minyards? Dead and Dead. Gansey? Dead, for the third time. Shall I go on or are you going to continue asking unnecessary questions?” Scarlet didn’t have time for this, she was in a hurry.

 

David lunged at her. The Gray Man caught him and held him still, David thrashed in his grip, trying to get free, but The Gray Man was firm.

 

“David I would love to fight you another time, god knows we’ve been due for a good brawl forever, but we don’t have time,” Scarlet tried to explain, but David only seemed to get more agitated as she talked.

 

“Murderous bitch!” David yelled. He looked up at the Gray Man “You too Dean? Don’t you see how wrong this is?”

 

“David, shut the fuck up!” Scarlet took a deep breath “You know me, I wouldn’t have killed them if I didn’t have some sort of contingency plan,” Wymack stopped fighting and hung his head, defeated.

 

“You can’t bring people back from the dead, Scarlet, I know, I’ve tried,” the pain in David’s voice was almost tangible  “You’re right, I do know you, and your ambition has just killed fifteen kids! Fifteen innocent children, Scarlet. That’s on you, Scarlet, their blood is on your hands,”

 

“Sixteen actually, are we done? Gray, drop him,” The Gray Man dropped him on the floor, and Wymack dropped to his knees, shaking. “Enough of this, you can grieve if I fail, now call the rest of your coven so we can get this over with,” she tossed him his phone David looked up at her with profound hatred, she looked back with studied disinterest.

 

He picked up the phone and pressed a number that was on speed dial. “Abby, I need you to get Betsy and get here, stat, it’s important, I’ll explain when you get here, bring the supplies,”

 

Scarlet reached into her pocket and pulled out Calla’s tarot card, The Fool. Please work. Please, please, please work.

 

///////////

-Twenty minutes (alternatively two days) later-

 

Betsy, as usual was a creature of furious faith. She cast a short truth telling charm over Scarlet, much like the spell she had put on Matt earlier, but stronger and longer-lasting “You can bring them back?” was all she asked.

 

Scarlet felt the free will that kept her from being truthful leave her, her emotions were suppressed and all she could feel, was the compelling need to be truthful, she nodded.

 

Betsy was satisfied “She’s not lying. What do we have to do?”

 

“It’s a simple ritual,” Scarlet began, before Abby shook her head disapprovingly.

 

“You know better than to mess around with rituals,” Abby chided “The ancient ways are not always the best ways,”

 

“The ancient ways get results,” Scarlet replied, Wymack was sulking in a corner, eyes full of smoldering rage. “David, if you aren’t going to help get your kids back, could you at least go out and keep Gray company? He deserves better than to be bored to death, I don’t want him to be alone in an unfamiliar situation,” Wymack stomped outside.

 

“I didn’t think Dean had any magical ability,” Abby observed, laying out candles.

 

“He goes by Gray now actually. And he doesn’t, he was just the first remorseless killer that came to mind,” Scarlet said.

 

“Crimson wasn’t available?” Betsy asked, and oh had it been forever since Scarlet had heard that name, since she had been one out of many. Scarlet and Crimson, taking on the world, one’s dead, the other’s gone batshit crazy. “How is she doing by the way?”

 

“Rosie’s dead,” Scarlet answered, lightly. “MJ too, if you were wondering,” Scarlet pulled out her matchbox to light the candles. “Their deaths were caused due to unforeseen circumstances when communing with the other side,” Scarlet sounded like a medical report and she knew it, but there simply wasn’t any other way to react.

 

There was a moment of silence before Abby said “Scarlet I’m, so so sorry,”

 

“Why? There’s nothing you could have done. Can’t fix it now anyway, it’s too late to revive her. So your sorry isn’t doing anything but wasting time,” Scarlet stated. She was being rude and she knew it.

 

“They were good witches,” was all Betsy said.

 

“They were foolish for casting without me there to act as a peacekeeper,” Scarlet said indifferently “Can we please stop talking about problems we can’t fix and move on to ones that we can, please?”

 

Betsy looked like she wanted to take apart and examine every layer of Scarlet’s fragile psyche while she was incapacitated, god knows she had done it before (though that was when Scarlet was less under the influence of a truth spell), and if this went well, she would have time to do it after, but she left it alone for now.

 

Scarlet lit the last candles and inhaled the Jasmine incense burning on the sixth point of the septagram the witches had drawn on the floor.

 

All right, let’s begin.

 

///////////

 

-Twenty minutes (alternatively two days) later-

 

“Thank you so much for all your help,” Scarlet said, hugging Abby and Betsy “I couldn’t have done this without you,”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Abby said, gently shoving Scarlet’s arm “you’re more than capable, but it was fun having you as a caster again,”

 

Betsy said nothing, she went to the small bag that held her casting supplies, she pulled out a pouch of herbs and a small glass jar of some brown powder. “A protection charm in the herbs, a cheer-up charm in the hot chocolate, use with milk for best effect, but water works too,”

 

“Thank you, Betsy, you have no idea what this means to me,” Scarlet thanked her. Betsy grabbed the lapel of Scarlet’s red leather jacket and pulled her down so she could look into Scarlet’s eyes.

 

“You bring them back, are we clear? If it’s a choice between you or them, you had better choose them without a moment’s hesitation, you are the one that put them where they are, so it is your responsibility to bring them back, and if you fail to do so, make no mistake, I can and will end you,” Betsy said gravely.

 

“Understood,” Scarlet said.

 

She went out into the hallway to see how David and Gray were doing, they were having a drink, David had a split lip, Gray had a swollen eye, both looked significantly more at peace than they did before.

 

“Men,” Scarlet said, and then left the apartment without saying goodbye to David, he would not want it, and she did not particularly want to say it to him, even though it might have been the last time he ever saw her.

 

She waited for Gray to say his goodbyes and join her in the car.

 

“You know what you have to do, right?” Scarlet asked him, without making eye contact. “You have the vial?”

 

“Yes,” The Gray Man answered. “Scarlet?”

 

Scarlet looked at the Gray Man from the driver’s side seat “Yes?”

 

“Good luck,” He answered “Be careful,”

 

Scarlet smiled “When have I ever not been careful? Punch it.”

 

The Gray Man pulled out of the driveway and sped towards an unknown destination.

 

“So why did you decide to help me?” Scarlet asked as the car’s speedometer rose higher and higher over the speed limit.

 

“You smashed a bottle of wine over my head and tied me up in the back of my car to get me to listen to one of your crazy ideas, it reminded me why we were friends in the first place, and I know you’re going to call me sentimental or make some other vague comment about my supposed inability to care for others being a farce, so you might as well go ahead,”

 

“I guess the way to a man’s heart is through his fight or flight reflex,” Scarlet supplied.

 

“There it is,” The Gray Man replied, making a sharp turn.

 

Scarlet grabbed her seat to keep from sliding around and  continued on her train of thought. “Yeah, but that’s not what I meant, I meant after, when it all went to shit,”

 

“In the warehouse, you mean?” The Gray Man asked, he cracked his neck, like he was uncomfortable. “I’m not quite sure, I think it was because of pity at the time, then the ritual happened, and I saw all the destruction and carnage in the war on the other world. I couldn’t just leave all those people,” The answer satisfied Scarlet more than she could say, and she nodded gratefully.

 

Her emotions were beginning to return in full force.

 

“Are you headed to the old river path?” Scarlet asked, suddenly sentimental.

 

“I thought it a suitable place to wait alone for a while, David gave me some beer, maybe I’ll have a drink,” The Gray Man shrugged as they came to an empty stretch of road, cars rarely turned onto the forest path.

 

“If you dig near that one tree, you could probably find that bottle of cheap wine that MJ buried, it’s technically been aging in a cool, dark space for twenty years, it’d be a pretty pricey bottle now,” Scarlet laughed.

 

“Oh I remember that,” The Gray Man said pleasantly. “She made us promise we would come back in thirty years and have a toast,”

 

“Twenty years will have to do. Hey, if you’re drinking, remember the-,”

 

“Yes I’ll remember the time limit,”

 

“And the-,”

 

“The mindset I’ll have to ‘adopt’, I know,”

 

“Well, if you’re so confident, I think I’ll begin,” Scarlet sighed

 

“I’m not quite sure what the etiquette is for  this situation, should I say goodbye?”

 

“Maybe not goodbye?” Scarlet contemplated “Maybe ‘see you later’?”

 

“Until next time then,” The Gray Man agreed. Scarlet shot him a glowing smile.

 

Scarlet took a deep breath and looked at herself in the car mirror. Two eyes, dark brown, almost black, a nose, kind of snubby, but what could one do about un-snubbing a nose, a pair of lips, painted bright red. She supposed she was kind of pretty, wearing this face. She was sad it would have to change. Her true appearance wasn’t something she really liked.

She flicked up the mirror and turned on the radio. Then she opened a soda, dropped in some poison, and chugged it down.

 

She wondered if the world would miss her when she was gone, she didn’t think it would, or at least this one wouldn’t. She thought, with a sudden burst of optimism, about what she would do if the plan worked perfectly, if everyone made it out alive.

 

She would go back to Henrietta with Gray and go see Calla again. Practice useless mundane spells until her very bones sang with magic. She would start going by ‘Aliya’ again, maybe change up her look, stop wearing red all the time. She would get a job, singing, maybe. Maybe she would finally put her English degree to good use, Fox Way could use another provider.

 

Maybe, she would make a fortune off the stock market and give half the money to Adam Parrish, and the other half to Andrew Minyard. Maybe she would join David Wymack’s coven. Maybe she would get in touch with Henry Cheng’s mother or Declan Lynch or Ichirou Moriyama and supply them all with enough magical artifacts to make them each a large sum of money.

 

Maybe she would stop doing magic all together, maybe she would run off to France or Sweden or Ghana or Japan and send the occasional postcard to her friends, to just let them know she was all right. Maybe she would fake her own death and never correspond with any of them again.

 

Maybe the plan would fail again and all of her wondering would be for naught.

 

Scarlet died looking out the window, watching streetlights and stars pass by, singing along to a cheesy love song on the radio, thinking about old loves and new, tragically short loves and women with lips painted dangerously purple. Two of these ideas were the same thing.

 

It was a good death she supposed, peaceful, not as painful as it should have been, she was only in possession of her positive feelings. It was not the death she wanted, it certainly wasn’t the best death she could have had, but it definitely wasn’t the worst.

 

At this moment in time, Scarlet died forever, and was never resurrected.

 

Aliya Khan died too, but she still (hopefully) had a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, next time, shit will go down, but I felt like I had left too many things open ended at this point in the story, so as we start the metaphorical "act 2" of the story, I wanted to recap some things and tie up a few loose ends. If anyone still has questions about anything, please ask me in the comments, I will be more than happy to answer.
> 
> In other news, in six days, this story will have existed for a whole year, which to me is kind of crazy. (I'm trying to write and release a chapter on that day, but I can't make any promises). Thank you to all of the readers who have kept up with my crazy trains of thought and strange crossover headcanons conveyed through fan fiction format. I really hope you guys have enjoyed what I've come up with so far. Whether you've been a fan from the beginning, or whether this is your first time reading the story, thank you so much for your support, and for taking the time out of your day to read this. I value you all so, so, so much, and I really hope you continue reading.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	21. Chapter 21

-Two hours and twenty minutes (alternatively, two weeks) later. (Alternatively, when Andrew finally arrived) -

 

If you entered the in-between, the first thing you would notice was the house on the hill. It was a large log cabin. Comforting, placating, the kind of place you would want to spend a vacation. Not a long-term house though, not by a long shot, but a wonderful place to spend a small stretch of time.

 

The next thing you might notice was the fog. It was unnaturally foggy on the grassy fields under the hill, even in the middle of the day. The fog was so thick and obscuring that you would barely notice the forests bordering the clearing until you accidentally stumbled face-first into a tree.

 

There were a good many things you might notice about the in-between, how the grass was a different shade of green every time you looked at it, how you could never tell whether it was hot or cold outside, how you never needed to eat, no matter how hungry you actually got, how it always felt temporary, like you knew that you would be leaving sooner or later.

 

It would take you a bit, but maybe you’d even notice the other hill. The one that rose above the fog, and fell into the forest. Yeah that would take a long time.

 

Eventually, you’d notice that strangest thing of all, that you didn’t really look like you were supposed to. And then you’d wonder why it took you so long to notice, but it’s not your fault, your body has only become a reflection of your mind. And you spend so much time in your mind, that you can’t really tell the difference between it and you.

 

If you end up in the in-between with other people, you would probably realize quicker. But you only end up in the in-between with other people if they die with you, and if you care about each other very much.

 

Or if you know magic. Duh.

 

Both ways have their consequences.

 

You haven’t fully become yourself though, that comes later, when you become fully dead. Right now, you’re just.. In between.

 

///////////

 

“So, you must be wondering why you’re all here,” Scarlet began, she was nervous, probably desperately hoping no one would try to maul her right off the bat. Allison wasn’t ready to take that option off the table.

 

“We know why we’re here, you killed us,” She stated.

 

“Well that is true, but-,” Scarlet tried to take control of the situation. Allison was determined not to make it easy for her.

 

“I’m not finished,” Allison flipped her brand new, shining (ugh) black hair “You killed us,” Dan bristled angrily behind her, Allison could tell she wasn’t the only person considering mauling as an option “And if that wasn’t enough of you, you showed up in the afterlife to bother us later because, oh um, I don’t know, you get some sick pleasure from following a college sports team around?”

 

Scarlet grimaced “That’s really not-,”

 

“I’m not done,” Allison continued. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m dead, and probably worst of all? I’m a fucking stained glass window,” And that was the root of the issue, Allison’s skin was now studded with shining, multicolored jewels, they felt soft, like her skin, and whenever Allison tried to pick one off, a new one would be there to replace it. 

 

She looked sparkly and ridiculous. 

 

“And if you would let me explain, I would tell you why. But you’re right, you guys must be starving, you should eat first,” Allison wasn’t so easily placated by the promise of food, but the rest of her compatriots obviously were. Matt immediately perked up at the mention of being allowed to eat. 

 

And they made their slow way into the large cottage on the hill, through the fog. They had to keep slowing down for Andrew, who kept falling and refusing to lean on Neil or Nicky, who kept offering to hold him up. He was both exactly what Allison expected him to look like, and the complete opposite

 

He hadn’t gotten used to his new body yet. He was tall, and his skin was the night sky, dark, navy blue and endless, shimmering with galaxies and constellations, every time Nicky touched him, a pulse of white light would be sent over his body, emanating from where he had been touched. His hair grew in silver curls, shining out over his forehead. He wore a simple tunic and tights. 

 

And that was  _ another thing _ . The underworld,  _ or wherever they were _ , obviously hadn’t heard of twenty-first century clothing.

 

Allison was the first to the log-mansion (call it a cabin all you want, this place was larger than buckingham palace, and no one had seemed to realize it yet). She stomped in through the doors and started towards the kitchen, which had been empty before. Cabinets and cabinets full of empty space. Scarlet had given some bullshit explanation about how they would fill once everyone arrived. Allison wasn’t prepared to believe it until she came to the dining table.

 

The table was piled high with steaming plates of food. Soups and sandwiches and pasta. Cookies and cakes and pie. Allison caught some lasagna on the edge of the table and, realizing how hungry she actually was, made a beeline towards it.

 

The rest of the foxes soon arrived in the house and followed suit.

 

“Hey, there’s mac and cheese! And I didn’t even have to make it!” Nicky grinned, picking up two large ramekins topped with toasted breadcrumbs and handing them off to Andrew and Aaron. Aaron placed his back on the table, but looked around for a spoon or a fork. Andrew accepted his with…  a smile? The action was so unexpected that Allison was forced to look away. Or maybe that was the fact that Nicky was glowing. Quite literally, actually, a warm yellow light emanated from his skin.

 

“Yo, potato leek soup!” Jack said, showing a rare amount of joy. He grabbed a small bowl of white soup, butter still melting on the top, and sprinkled with chives. His skin was a bright burgundy color, not quite the color of blood, but almost. His neck and wrists were circled in obsidian and ringed with gold.

 

“Turkey sandwiches,” Neil said pleasantly. His food of choice was simple, but obviously held a few good memories for him, judging by how his new face softened.

 

“Sludgy brownies,” Blue sighed with a complicated sort of smile. Her new face was a bit more pixie-ish. And also, maybe more notably, was electric blue. She was still, unfortunately for her, incredibly short. 

 

Blue had had a bit of a crisis when she realized what she looked like. Her hair was still short and spiky. She was the fox who looked the most like she did when she was alive (Except Ronan, who had somehow remained unchanged). Allison suspected that that had something to do with all the effort Blue put into looking the same on the outside as she did on the inside.

 

“‘Woah, it’s my favorite comfort food from when I was alive! Yay!’ Can we get to the explaining now, please,” Allison said, crossing her arms.

 

Scarlet sighed and plopped into a plush armchair that materialized out of nowhere.

 

“I suppose I owe you all an explanation,” The foxes gathered some food and fell silent “I need your help. People are dying and they shouldn’t be,”

 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Adam hissed to Gansey. Adam was made of a dusty clay, crumbling and wisping off at the slightest movement, sometimes, little bits of gold or jewels would fall out of his skin, and being rebuilt from below just as quickly. Gansey, in contrast was made of paper, his thoughts appearing on his skin in scribbled handwriting. A row of question marks was making its way up his cheek. Pieces flaked off when he moved too quickly, and disintegrated in the air, his thoughts being lost forever into the dust.

 

“No I don’t mean like ‘you were all supposed to live long, happy lives before I struck you all down in your prime’ I mean like ‘there's a war going on out there somewhere and you're the only people who can help me stop it’. Now, I know I didn’t ask you to, and I know that you probably hate me because I killed all of you, I would. But the fate of the world is at stake. The fate of all magic is at stake. You don’t have to help me, I know I’ve given you no reason to, and you will all be resurrected, regardless of whether or not you help me. But please, standing here before me is the perfect group to save us all. And I am begging,  _ begging _ you, please help me.” Scarlet was desperate, and here was her reasoning, laid out on the table. People were getting hurt, and she needed to help them.

 

There was a long silence following Scarlet’s explanation, Allison drummed her jeweled fingers on the wooden table and considered whether or not she wanted to help stop a war. 

 

She took a deep breath and asked “Okay, but what’s in it for us?”

 

“Allison!” Renee reprimanded. Her new body was breathtaking. Her skin was pitch dark, and she wore blinding white armor to cover it. The two colors clashed spectacularly over her new form.

 

“No, Ms. Reynolds is right to be asking,” Scarlet spoke like an extra from a nineteen twenties gangster movie. Al Capone’s gay cousin. “You’d be stupid to accept a deal without knowing what you’d get out of it,” The silence stretched on a few lonely moments.  Financial problems? Hell yeah, I can help you out. Deep emotional scars? Just want to feel whole again? Well I can’t promise full recovery, but I can definitely promise that I will help you get better. Want fame? Power? Glory? Done, done, done, and done. If none of that appeals to you, I promise that there’s some magic out there that’ll give you what you need. All I ask is that you help me,”

 

Allison looked over to Renee and raised an eyebrow, Renee sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that’ll do it, I’m in,” Allison agreed.

 

“Really?” Scarlet seemed genuinely surprised that someone was agreeing this early into her whole ‘woe is me’ speil.

 

“Me too,” Renee added.

 

“Count us in,” Dan said, after speaking to Matt for a little

 

“Not me,” Shauna shook her head and sat down, crossing her arms.

 

“That’s fair,” Scarlet nodded.

 

“If you can really do what you’re promising? I’m in,” Jack said, after practically inhaling three bowls of soup.

 

“What, are you kidding? She just murdered all of us!”

 

“Temporarily,” Scarlet added.

 

“Still murder!” Blue said angrily.

“I’m in,” said Henry. He looked almost exactly as he had when he was alive, except that whenever he spoke too fast or got too excited, little lights under his skin twinkled aggressively. He was also… different… somehow. He was Henry, but also something more.

 

“Henry!” Blue chided.

 

“Did you not hear her when she said the word ‘war’ Blue? Because I can guarantee that I did. This is our chance to make a difference, to make real change! I’m not giving up this chance.” Henry pointed at Scarlet resolutely “If she says we can help, then I want to do everything I can,”

 

“I’m not sure what you’d want from me, but I’m in,” Nicky said, his hair grew out of his head in glowing strands of yellow light. Flowers grew across his collarbones.

 

After a few long moments of silence, Aaron sighed out a “Me too.” He was made out of mottled grey stone, moss grew along his scalp and on his arms and legs like hair.

 

Kevin, who had been silent until now, said “I’m in”

 

Blue’s head whipped toward his, betrayed. 

 

“I expect more information, but as of now, I’m in,” Gansey said. Already, doubts started to work their way up his arm.  _ Lying??? Wrong side of war? _ And questions of that manner snaked their way around his wrist.

 

“I can’t believe you’re going along with this!” Blue said. Gansey looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, but he didn’t change his mind.

 

Andrew, who had been silent until now, rasped out a “We’re in”. His voice was scratchy with disuse. There was no question as to who he meant. Neil looked like his skin was made of fabric. Patterned patches and rips ran along his skin.He was even more of a fashion disaster than her.

 

“Do any of you people who have died that you needed closure with? I can get you that.” Scarlet offered. Every head in the room that hadn’t been looking before was looking at her now.

 

“I’m in,” Adam and Ronan said, almost simultaneously. Blue looked at them, and then looked at Scarlet, but her mind was swayed. She opened her mouth as if to protest and then looked at the room around her.

 

Instead she said “Yeah, that’ll do it. I’m in,”

 

Scarlet let out a whoop of joy. “Yeah! All right! Let’s stop a war!”

 

///////////

 

Swan fell asleep curled up next to Skov. Jiang was sleeping on the pull-out couch in the next room. It was his third week working for the Henrietta Gazette as a reporter and he finally felt like he was getting somewhere. Like he was making a name for himself.

 

Skov had gotten a job at a local bakery (hopefully they kept him near the ovens and away from the counter. He was better with bread than people).

 

Jiang was happy to live out his days as an unbelievably wealthy young man, but he was writing a book. Swan had read one chapter and had understood about half of it, but Jiang was a genius, and he was going to be somebody when that book hit the shelves.

 

Swan was unbelievably proud of where they had all gotten since they graduated high school. They were all taking classes at Henrietta’s small community college (much to the chagrin of the entire city of Henrietta) and they were all carving out small niches of their own.

 

Swan went to sleep feeling content.

 

His dreams were rudely interrupted by Scarlet.

 

“Hey! If it isn’t my favorite transporter!”

 

“I know there’s a cooler word for that,” Swan said to his cousin.

 

Scarlet flippantly waved a hand “Yeah but it’s in dream language or whatever, I can barely pronounce it,”

 

“What do you want, Scarlet,” Swan sighed

 

“Hey, show a little respect, I’m dead,” Scarlet said, the walls of Swan’s dream wavered in shock. “Temporarily, I’m temporarily dead,”

 

“That’s not a thing!” Swan shouted back at her.

 

“Calm down, would you? You’ll wake up. I’m in the in-between right now, I’m not fully dead,” Scarlet shrugged. “I need a favor,”

 

“When don’t you,”

 

Scarlet scoffed in mock-offense “Can’t your cousin come visit your dreams without you assuming that I want something from you?”

 

“But you do want something from me,”

 

“Not the point. Do you still know Morris?” Scarlet’s form wavered.

 

“Does anyone really know Morris?” Swan asked. “But I’ve got his number, yeah,”

 

“Cool, this is for his boss,” Scarlet handed him an envelope.

 

“What do you want from Morris’s boss?” Swan asked.

 

“Not important, just get it to him,” Scarlet shrugged. “I think I hear your alarm clock, see ya cuz’,” Scarlet disappeared and Swan woke up.

 

He looked at the envelope in his hands. Scarlet had scribbled in her barely legible writing:  _ To Ichirou Moriyama, with love, From your Scarlet _

 

Swan looked at the envelope, and then the rays of the sun peeking through his window. “Oh Scarlet,” Swan sighed. “What have you gotten yourself into this time,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Kudos and Comments are always appreciated
> 
> Next time: The folks ascend, and the mob gets involved... again


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally fixed my spacing! I know it's been driving a few of you guys crazy.

Ichirou Moriyama was having, in short, a very good day. Money was coming in, he was in charge. There wasn't much else he could ask for. He had a date with a very pretty woman, and The Princess Bride on DVD if it didn’t go well. It was shaping up to be a very productive morning.

He perused a news site on his phone while he got ready for his date. A headline about Riko’s death had made its way onto a major news site. Ichirou clicked it to make sure there weren’t any suspicions about the cause of death (there were not) and closed the article. Everything was as it should have been. Except for one thing.

He couldn’t decide on a shirt.

_ Button-down or suit? Button-down or suit? _ He wouldn’t usually put this much effort into getting dressed, but for some reason, he desperately wanted it to go well.  _ Button down, _ he decided, as someone knocked on his door. He quickly put it on on his way down the stairs of the penthouse. The person who knocked on the door was long gone before he opened it, but the envelope they left on the welcome mat was still staring up at him.

_ To Ichirou Moriyama, with love, From your Scarlet _ .

Ichirou picked up the letter and slammed the door shut. He rushed to his dining table and grabbed a letter opener to crack the wax seal on the envelope. Because Scarlet just didn’t know when to quit.

_ Dear Ichirou,  _

_ I guess I should start the letter by congratulating you on your recent acquirement of power. Congrats, babe! I would offer you my condolences on the death of your father, but we both know you hated him. _

Ichirou snorted in amusement. Scarlet always was blunt.

_ I suppose I should continue this letter by telling you that Rosie is dead. So is MJ. _

Ichirou's smile quickly vanished.  _ Maria-Jose _ . Ichirou put down the letter and sat down on one of the dining room chairs. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath to calm himself. It didn’t work. His shoulders shook with the weight of grief and tears.

He knew that MJ hated him when she left, he had made sure of that. But he had always hoped that they would see each other again. She had been one his best friends. He had pardoned her and her family as soon as he came into power.

_ As per Moriyama rule, unless you have recently changed it, their debts have now transferred to me. You should find sufficient payment in the envelope.  _

The envelope, which had been empty before, now was full with the weight of two small red vials. 

_ These will get you millions, if not billions, on the market. Unless you would like to keep and use them yourself, in which case, go right ahead, you know the drill. So now, you owe me. I know you’re thinking of resurrection, I’m asking you as a friend, don’t. She’s happy where she is, you’d be better off with the money.  _

_ Luckily for you, I’m afraid to inform you that this isn’t an informative letter. I need your help. _

Ichirou sighed and read the rest of the letter. Then he picked up his phone, and cancelled his date. 

///////////

Renee felt a little stupid. She was sitting in front of what seemed like a pile of rocks and holding some pebbles and dirt in each hand. Allison and Dan were circled around the rock with her, Allison holding leaves and twigs, and Dan holding fur and feathers.

“Allison, stop breathing,” Scarlet ordered. Dan and Renee had both managed to stop their breaths, but Allison had a little bit of trouble

“I need to breathe,” Allison argued.

“You don’t, you’re dead, the faster you accept that, the better,” Scarlet said.

Allison glared, but said nothing. Renee could follow the rise and fall of Allison’s chest with her eyes. Renee’s eyesight had changed somehow during her death. She saw things in high definition, as if everything before had been slightly blurred, only enough that she couldn’t see the truth of them.

“I don’t see how-” Allison started.

“If you’re talking, you’re breathing,” Scarlet interrupted, and Allison fell silent. She looked like she wanted to protest more. “If you want, I can always just call Kevin up here, I’ve heard he’s very motivational,” Allison shook her head furiously at that.

Renee watched Allison focus intently on expelling all the air in her lungs and struggle not to take anymore in. Renee knew the ex **act moment that Allison stopped breathing, because everything had gone sharper, more intense. Renee knew why Scarlet had insisted they complete it. Renee knew everything. Renee, Dan, and Allison were no longer just Renee, Dan, and Allison. They were one. They were the Aaraiantras.**

**“Call Matthew Boyd” Their bodies commanded. Scarlet did.**

**Matthew Boyd was the first person up the hill, he wanted to see what had become of Danielle. Danielle, in turn, wanted to reassure him.**

**“Have no fear, Matthew Boyd,” The three bodies said in unison. “We will soon be three again, and your Danielle shall be returned to you,”**

“No offense,”  **Matthew said, he was frightened and confused. Such human emotions. Renee valued them heavily.** “But that doesn’t exactly help,”

**“The Aaraiantras does not often provide words of comfort, the Aaraiantras only speaks what is known,” Allison’s body supplied. Danielle’s body stood and placed a soft hand on Matthew’s cheek.** “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Dan said, separately from the Aaraiantras, she quickly gave Matt a peck on the cheek and s **at back down to rejoin the circle.**

**Scarlet climbed up the hill.**

“What’s wrong with them?” **Matthew asked Scarlet.**

“Nothing is wrong, they’re fine, they’re just in contact with the Aaraiantras,”  **Scarlet said** . “In other cultures they are known as oracles, or the fates. They not only know what is happening in al locations at all times, they control it, and your girls over there are going to try and curry favor with them,”

**“We know what you seek, Aliya of the Trees,”  The Aaraiantras spoke through the mouths of the girls. “What makes you think that we will help you?”**

“I would hope the goodness of your hearts, but we all know that that isn’t happening,”

**“That makes you wise, but not obliged to our help. However, we owe you for the death of your friends, Rosanne of the earth and Maria-Jose of the water, so we shall ensure your victory in your endeavour,”**

“Thank you,”

**“In return,” The Aaraiantras continued. “You and your party shall provide us with entertainment on your journey,** ”

“Entertainment? What does that entail?”  **Scarlet asked** .

**“We have always loved music,” The Aaraiantras prompted. Realization dawned on Scarlet’s face and she grimaced.**

“So basically we’re going to have to randomly burst into song whenever we need a bit of divine intervention,”

**“Does that bother you?”**

“Not gonna lie, a little bit. We’ll do it though,”

**“Good, we wish you luck,” The Aaraiantras said**

“We’re doing  _ ‘Save Magic:The Musical’ _ ,” **Scarlet said flatly** “You had better be doing a lot more than wishing,”

**“We shall also leave you a bit of advice,” The Aaraiantras said “When in doubt, turn left,”**

**Then the Aaraiantras le** ft the bodies of Renee, Allison, and Dan. 

Scarlet turned to them “Well, I hope you guys can sing pretty,” then she began to walk down the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys know that in the word Aaraiantras, there are ten letters, and half of them are "a"?
> 
>  
> 
> As always, Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> (Guys I know I talk a big game of writing this fic for myself, and I am, but I crave that sweet sweet validation, it lets me know what you guys want to see and it lets me know that you guys are still interested in reading)


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